When I Say Fern...

... I mean FERN!

All things green and dripping and curling and reaching ever upward.

(and I swoon)

My parents are in town for the week.  Well, to be honest they are in forest.  Camping, not 15 minutes from my home in one of the loveliest areas the North Coast offers.  I don't mean to boast, but really now, but this territory I reside in is so amazing, with so much to offer that I feel luck rising in my soul every time I venture out of doors.

After a solid night of sleep in my own bed and a hearty breakfast (BC is fattening me up on the good weeks - he gives me a wink and adds a little extra butter on my english muffins) I'm heading back out to the woods and water to stay with them and let my soul be filled with all that the ravens see and the black bears smell.

More to come, more to come, but first I need to get my shoes a little muddy and my pockets full of detritus.

And... Done.

Two Things for your Thursday Evening

(actually I'm in a chatty mood, but let's start with two, shall we?)

1.  I bought a poncho.  I have a feeling there'll be loads of poncho outfits this Fall, like "poncho is the new legwarmer is the new black" time.  Except that I was never into black, preferring, at a very young age to layer on color like I was a giant seven layer jello salad all ready for a Fourth of July picnic right next to the sparklers and sugar cookies.  Ooh, that was a terrible analogy (jello gives me the hibee geebees and I'm sorry, but something wiggling and dyed green does not a salad make!).

Let's get honest about what's happing around here:

Retail Therapy makes me feel good (can I get an AMEN from all you sisters?).  This afternoon was a triple-shot of self-indulgence: tea latté sipping and letter writing, boutique and second-hand shop cruising, and snapping up a few pieces to ring in the Autumn Equinox.  And it's not like I didn't get my fix earlier this week either, which brings us right around to point number two.

2.  Oh Sweet Jesus.

I have taken on a lover.

My new lovah (pronounced "love-ah" like it's too good to waste any time pronouncing the "rrrr") goes in public by the name Canon Rebel T1i, but around here, I've been calling him Pierre.  And I've fallen hard.  My beloved little point-and-shoot Canon, with her tiny handful of pixels and her busted lens has done me SO well over the years (and will remain in active duty I'm sure) but Pierre, Oh Pierre, he's swept me off my feet and I don't think I'll be coming down anytime soon.  That button just feels like butter, click, whirl, snap, oh baby...

(Pierre asked me to stop right there.  He said somethings should just remain between us. And maybe Flickr if we're feeling frisky)

3.  HA! Told you there would be more.  Is there anyone else out there who feels GLEE over produce?  I feel positively passionate about the virtues of home-grown lettuce, never mind wonders of the world such as brussel sprouts from my favorite local farmer which will be oiled up and roasted to succulent in a matter of minutes here.  I'm ruined on a great number of fruits and vegetables, unable to bring myself to buy their sad cousins from the supermarket, because I know the real deal, the honest food, the food snapped off the vine and tugged up from the dirt just this morning by the woman I'm shaking hands with is UTTER DELIGHT.

I really do like to eat.  And the scent of the carrots I slipped from the soil before I walked inside is making me nearly delirious.  How do I wish I could put a little link [like this: "carrot scent"] right here for you to click that would transfer olfactory goodness!  You'd fall right off your chair, or at the very least start salivating.  I am.

4. This Cuff.  This photo does zero justice, but I just realized I had yet to mention it, as well as yet to give it the photoshoot it deserves.  Just know this: Allison - you are a woman of unbelievable talent, and I am spoiled rotten.

5.  Because I like to keep you updated, tomorrow (Friday September 24th) marks Chemo Round 3.  After this one, only five left to go (not so bad, right?).  I'll be thinking about you this weekend as I'm laying about, because having something really wonderful to think about makes the medicine go down easier.

Lovey Doves,
- Umber

Shop-a-doodle-doo: Sea Stone Edition

Rock on with your Smock on!

(that IS the saying, right?)

Plinking down with the slippery sound of 

ten thousand small stones all sliding through the sandy surf 

into the Painting Shop right now...

(ten times fast, go!)



~ POST SHOP UPDATE ~

HOLY MOLY!   I'm just giddy, gleeful and grateful as anything green and gracious!  (and also apparently in the mood for alliteration)

But really.
Grinning a mile wide.
That's me.

Sketchbook Writings

- From my sketchbook writings, September 20th, 2010 -

There is something in this that speaks of rebirth, but I've yet to finger the pulse of it.

It's as though through these biweekly treatments I'm allowed to step through nine lives; Each time beginning as some small helpless puddle, growing stronger, brighter, wiser each day until I'm able to reach up and grab the tail of the comet, hold on for that wild ride.  The day to day is certainly a gritty struggle, but what is the human experience if not made of grit and sinew?  The speed of progression each week speaks volumes of encouragement to my soul - like watching some stop-film documentary that sparks tears in the staunchest disbeliever when the beauty of the full cycled of life is revealed in a bite sized nugget.

This is no foreign magic, no whispered mystery, but an honest viewing of LIFE.  There is a moment when the eyes first open to color and light, a moment when the exquisite realization of taste sets in, a moment of discovery when all those awkward angles and limbs move together in perfect harmony, of moment of recognition at the exchange of particles those lungs can move, a moment when the mind releases it's grip, truly awakens and trembles at the sheer blessing of life.  And so it is.  Dust to dust but the particles glitter.

It was just that time

Time for a little trim.  And by trim I mean bad ass mohawk.

Live from the Laundrymat

...and surrounded by the moat of my own ladywear drying in the sunlight streaming through the windows.  No pictures (no thank you) but I will tell you the rainbow spectrum is sparkling.

Just this morning I had the profound realization that it was Friday (as I opened the kitchen windows and thought "Oh no, we forgot to put out the trash for the Monday morning pick-up.  Can I blame that on this phenomena I've heard of called "chemo-brain" where you are forgiven for crazy thoughts?  Either way, it's been one of those weeks were you can never quite pin down what day it is) and that I'd not said a peep since Monday.  Not for lack of things to speak of, nor for photos to share, not even for feeling under the weather.  No, in fact I've felt shockingly good, electrified even, full to the very brim with ideas and imagery and an unprecedented jolt of energy.  It's been one of those weeks where I've simply had to follow the muse, giggling and skipping all the way and throwing bolts of sass like Artemis slinging arrows.

And I've done some giggling.  Mostly due to cheeky little faces like this one giving me the smirk.

Hello sass-a-frass!

Feathered!

And this one, he's QUITE the little ham.  [Is is not quite kosher to refer to poultry as ham?  Discuss amongst yourselves...]

Ferns make my heart beat.

Oh yes.  There are feathers to be had.

All this to say, I had originally held grand plans of a Sea Stone release party in the Etsy Paint shop but was struck with an inspiration that has held me captive the last two days.  SO, next week then?

In the meantime, as soon as the biblical flood of laundry has been folded, I'll be heading into the clinic for Round Two of my Chemo.  Followed by checking out for a long weekend of sleeping and not much else.  Luckily I've worked on fattening up with bagels and cream cheese.

See you next week lovey doves!

Shop-a-roo

For your perusing, peeping, and pondering,

I present a little preview.

Pillonious Californicus

(California Native Pillow)

Industry remnant linens, vintage cotton, repurposed cotton  12"x24"

Long Walks in a Small Town: Poppy Edition Pillow

Linen, cotton  12"x18"

a scrumptious pair of

Long Walks in a Small Town: Teasel Editions

100% Linen  16"x16  and 12"x18"

One Fine Day
100% Linen  12"x18"

... and a few others to boot!  Off to begin listing in the original etsy shop now!

I'll be your Huckleberry

Care for a Tour?

While the truth is, magic happens all over this house (blink, plink, tada!), it occurred to me that you might be tossing and turning in bed late at night wondering "where o' where does that textile goodness come from?"  I know I've been doing some tossing, but I think that may be due to the medical minipause my 30 year old system is currently undergoing.  And if you've not loss any sleep over it whatsoever, well, that's probably in your best interest BUT I thought I might give you a peek into this little corner of my life [which also moonlights as our guest bedroom should you come for dinner and feel a bit tipsy afterwards].

Which brings me right to a very exciting announcement:

[ba ba boom boom boom]

I'll be reopening the textile shop of wonders and delights on Monday September 6th after a looooooooong hiatus!  I'll be offering up a bloggy preview right here before the webular doors swing wide SO on that note... it's back to the studio for me! 

Stitch, stich, ciao!

One down, Seven to go...

Hello all you wild things and thingettes!

I'd like to check in, give you the report, pass the dirt, but at the moment I'm feeling rather deliriously tired.  My life, like many two year olds, is consisting largely of toast, naps and True Blood.  Ok, maybe not like most two year olds (what with the vamp drama).  But today I feel more like myself than I have in the last week; I've eaten two (count 'em TWO) whole meals AND managed a beach excursion.  Because we all know the only thing better than fresh air is beach air.  Plus I filled a very large sack with the roundiest, flatiest, most satisfying stones that are now neatly stacked and awaiting the dash of my paint brush.

But for now, I think my fingers are beginning to stutter and my eyelids are no longer cooperating.  Actually I'm not even sure what I typed just above these photos so I do hope it was decipherable, or at least somewhat sane.  Sleepy brain has a way of slipping in random comments about ridiculous things like Walker Texas Ranger and how to grow snap peas from pool cues without my knowledge.

So.
Yeah.

I'll see you on the other side.

Cheeri-snooze...