I heard this song by the Weepies today and I liked it from the first few notes. The cover art for the album—love. 
Since I could tell that the Muse was packing bags to go have a rest somewhere more peaceful, I decided that I had better wrap up. I hated to give it up, but I thought that, unfinished, I might come back to it carrying a different story, or worse—that I might never actually finish. 
I feel so energized by making this piece that I just want to... I don't know. Shout? Scream? Dance? The Muse is present. I'm going to try to ride this wave as long as I can. I have no idea what I'll do when this project is done. And I have no idea when I'll know that it's done. Maybe is just keeps on going. Maybe it doesn't matter. 
When I wrapped up today, this is where my collage was. It's still not finished, but I'm making good progress.
Parts that I thought were important are disappearing. Things that didn't seem to mean anything are deciding to announce their presence. I went to this piece thinking I had nothing, and now it's telling me all kinds of stories. 
This is going to be a series of posts showing the progress of the piece I'm working on. Sadly, I just realized that I don't have a photo of where this piece started this week. I can tell you that I started it yeeeeears ago, and it has just been waiting for me. I thought it was in the "demons" post, but oddly, it's not there. Hopefully the repetition won't leave you feeling bored, that my goal in life is to be an echo. I think it will be interesting to watch where this thing goes. I have no idea. 
Catherine Evans is another artist in my building whose work I admire. When I describe her work to people I usually say something like, "It's not the kind of thing one could easily hang in their home, but it's the kind of thing that needs to be made and seen." Is she a painter? Yes. Is she a sculptor? Yes. Is she a recycler? Absolutely. All the work is abstract and seems to have some element of repetition. She uses tons of recycled materials—old soda bottles, bottle caps, yogurt cups.
When I see her work, my auditory system gets triggered—there's a rhythm to what she makes. I hear the high keys on a piano, fog horns, branches scraping against branches. I love that. 
The materials were left out, so yesterday, when the studio was quiet, I went and made another. This time, instead of the conversation that bubbled through the air as we worked, I had silence and my own breathing. The circles that I was drawing stopped being circles. I briefly imagined them as hats as seen from above. Then I saw people below them. Then they just became people in a space or across the globe. No two are alike. Well, actually, two of them ended up the same, but these things happen. They're at opposite ends, anyway. 
The other night I had a dream that I mailed an envelope—an empty envelope. Sounds perfectly boring, doesn't it? But it wasn't. This was no ordinary envelope. It somehow managed to contain all of me in it—my thoughts, wishes and ideas—all that I wanted to express and share with the world. And I mailed it, far away. There was no address on it and no return address on it for me to be able to get it back.
Pure Imagination from the movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory—every so often I get it stuck in my head. It's not such a bad song to have stuck really, I suppose. But after the first few times of my brain playing it for me, I finally found myself thinking about the lyrics. 
I was in a mood a little over a week ago. Ever have that? It happens to me every so often—here comes Mr. Mood being all chummy. I didn't know what to do with him. I got a little tired of just listening to old music that would make my heart hurt (Billy Holiday, Marlena Dietrich, that sort of thing). So I opened up an old suitcase that I keep of collage materials and in it I found some of my work. 
All of that makes me think of one of my favorite pastimes—travel sketching. It took a while, but I learned not to abandon a project. Sometimes some of the stuff that seemed like pure garbage at the beginning turned out to be some of my favorite work by the end.
In January I had three women come visit me in the studio. They tried on hats while I worked with another (very good) customer of mine. The studio was filled with laughter and the Polish language while they busied themselves putting things on their heads. 
So how is that this set has become a side project? Well, the upholstering on the chairs is totally trashed. And it's obvious that the set was well esteemed in the family because it has tags on if from the last reupholstering it had in West Virginia. Now it's my project. I'm guessing that since I have a toddler it will probably take me about four years to complete the project. 
I picked up these little beauties while visiting a dear friend's mother in a nursing home. These are seed pods from what I believe it the Catalpa tree. I'd love to just stick them right on my head. I keep stuff like this around the studio because nature is unbelievably inspiring. What's growing or buried in your surroundings this time of year?
Ideally, you want a hat that won't outshine you, right? At least, that's my philosophy. 
I had a cool hat dream not that long ago, but in this dream, I had designed all the hats. They were all either teal or this beautiful, rusty red that I have. There was one hat in particular that stood out in my mind, and I'm setting out to make it now. Lucky for me, in the morning I drew up a sketch of the hat—I wouldn't have been able to keep the energy of it alive otherwise. I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to make it, but if I can it will be a lot of fun. 
It's a simple thing to say, but it's easy to get caught up in doing things you love, and not take enough time to get some shuteye. I'm certainly guilty of not getting enough sleep, I have a toddler, after all. But once in a while I'm good to myself and it really pays off.
How can I say that, right? Here I am, trying to convince people to wear something on their heads. Something that will supposedly make a statement about them, right? Let me say it again I hate fashion.
Here is how you become a pen: Someone commissions you to make something. Then they tell you all the details of how it should be made—exact distances from this to that, exact colors, a brim no wider than 'X', but certainly not less than 'Y'. "But be creative, after all, it's your art." Right.
I was just reading through an old sketchbook/journal and found a tidbit that I like. I was writing about making wishes—which I never much believed in. In fact, when I make a wish I tend to make my request so ridiculously vague that it has to come true. The wish is something like I hope I get what I deserve. I suppose that could be a double-edged sword, but as I said, I'm not much of a believer. In my journal entry, though, I found something new, a different approach that makes me look at wishing a little differently. It says When you get a chance to make a wish, make one for someone else—wishes are too self-indulgent. How long did that sit in my journal? Why didn't I hang on to it?
I love this very short audio story about Julio Diaz and about his experience getting mugged. I wish I could think fast enough to change somebody's life, which I'm quite positive he did.
In talking to people about work they'd like commissioned I find that it's more helpful if they talk loosely about what they want rather than give me specifics. The first allows me to be the creative person that I am, and therefore a more inspired hat is created. The second is more like production work and doesn't require much thought on my part. 
This is Linsey. She wanted this hat last year and was glad to see that I still had it. As a budding artist, she's into creating a look for herself. She's going to be wearing this little top hat to her prom. She promised me photos. Linsey, don't forget!
This weekend is Paradise City Marlborough. It has been a great show so far. I'm sure it doesn't hurt that I'm in a prime spot just opposite the visitor entrance. Still, I had a similar location a few years ago and I can't say that I did as well. 
I find it particularly rewarding when people reach beyond ordinary, pick up one of my "more challenging hats", and join me in the land of possibilities. One such person today was Barbara. Barbara never met a hat that didn't like her, and my edgy hats just ate her up. Isn't she amazing in this Component Hat? She was such a delight, and I'm sure we'll meet again.
Open Studios at ArtSpace Maynard is this weekend. Come see where I make all my hats. 
I finished them up today, put them in a pretty pink and black hat box, and got them to the post office as fast as I could. I hope they'll bless me with a fun fashion photo shoot, but in the meantime, here are a couple of the hats that I sent along. I hope she loves them.
Don't you worry—they're coming!
While traveling in Europe last year I saw several younger men wearing stylish head wear. The word "saw" is key in that sentence—I wouldn't have seen those men if they hadn't been wearing hats. They would have just belonged to the great sea of bodies that were at the beach or walking through the airport. But I saw them. Some part of me wanted to walk up to each of them and shake their hands, let them know that they looked good. Another part of me wanted to find out where they bought them—nice mens hats can seem so hard to come by these days. In the end, I stayed away—you can't just go walking up to strange men in the airport and telling them you like their style. I doubt they're tuning in here, but let me just say it for the record—gentlemen, you looked fantastic.
These days I'm torn. Aside from being a person who dresses with intention, I also happen to be a gardening junkie. The two don't really mix well. I'm more than just a hands-in-the-dirt-girl—it's more of a whole-body thing. So my pretty dresses end up staying in the closet while I don my grubbiest pair of jeans, a baggy t-shirt, a junk hat (a.k.a baseball cap) and my gardening boots. I hate that I don't get to dress my mood, but I know that I just can't keep myself out of the dirt.
I have to say that I think Paradise City's spring Marlborough show was the best I've ever had! Maybe it was the good weather that we had—people were in a great mood. Or maybe it was because I was by myself—I usually have help. Being by myself meant that I spoke to nearly everyone who came by my booth (if I got the chance). Sure, it meant that I didn't get any restroom breaks and had to eat on the fly, but it was worth it.
I had so much fun with people. Some were gracious enough to allow me to photograph them to post to my blog. The little girl above is Isabella, and what a cutie! She certainly didn't hurt my business by donning my double-pigtail hat! And I managed to get this handsome couple into my space to talk about our mutual love of hats. Raqim bought his wife Debora this wonderful dish hat. He wore the orange fedora for this photo because we decided he couldn't be seen in his 'non-hat' (a.k.a. baseball cap). Both promised to send me photos of their college-aged son, who is also a hat wearer. The nicest thing was that when they walked away, I saw Debora give her husband the sweetest thank you kiss. It made me feel really good deep down in my heart.
