When I was a child, I remember telling my mom I was bored. I’m sure many mother’s have heard their children say the same.  I do remember finding creative ways to keep myself occupied. For instance, I remember making paper mache masks and taking empty clear pill bottles filling them with a little crayon shavings, then melting the bottle in the oven to make pendents. But still I remember at times being bored. Early on my mother must have taught me something special, because one thing I lack as an adult is a reason to be bored.

In the south, a little bit of snow or ice shuts everything down. Today is one of those days. I stopped at the grocery last night, we made sure we had enough propane for the gas logs, and spare water (we live with a well, so no electricity no water). We were ready to be “snowed in” for the weekend. So you would think, being snowed in I’d worry about getting cabin fever. That will NEVER happen to me.

I started this morning slowly, with no real agenda for the day. As I sat reading the paper and eating my breakfast, I thought of all the options of things I could do today without having to leave the house. I realize my problem, instead of boredom, is having too many things to capture my attention.

Just thought you’d like to see a glimpse of my table with project ideas waiting for my attention (see picture). I hate to be bored and I feel fortunate that I have the opportunities to enjoy my creative passion. I also work from home as a freelance technical editor, so there’s always work to do. Recent home improvements have also supplied me with the (fun) job of painting some walls in a “new” closet.

With all this, I’m glad to say, I won’t be bored this weekend!

p.s. no…the rest of my house does not look like this table. Please don’t call the producers of  “Hoarders“…yet!

During the first week of January, the History Channel aired a week of shows dedicated to Armageddon, the end of the world in 2012. A couple weeks later, Haiti was hit with a devastating earthquake.  I’m sure the Haitians feel that they are living through a form of Armageddon right now.

The History Channel’s programming and the Haitian earthquake has opened up some dialog amongst some of my friends and family. Mass destruction, by man or nature, is possible. We’ve all seen it…hurricanes, wars, earthquakes floods, and tsunami’s. What could you do to help with the survival of human kind? Deep question.

My first thought about myself, was “I don’t know anything.” I buy my groceries at the store and cook in a microwave and electric stove. I don’t know how to get anywhere without my car. And without a TV or hair dryer, I’d think I’d be lost.

However, during our friendly discussion someone said…well, “Nanette knows how to make blankets and sew.” My brain went “AhHA!!” I have an extremely valuable asset. I can make things! Even if I had to, I could make clothes. They may not fit well, but in a post-Armageddon world,  high-fashion is worthless. I will be able to keep my clan warm and comfortable.

And yet another “AhHA” moment I thought…I can even make my own yarn! Last December, I took a class on spinning wool. I am becoming quite fascinated with using a drop-spindle to make my own yarn. This skill is 100% powered by Nanette. No electrical outlets needed here.

Of course sewing, may be my down fall. I don’t like sewing by hand. So if you know anyone that has a treadle sewing machine they want to sell, let me know. With that, I will be a valuable member in our post-Armageddon world. When Chicken Little comes running to tell us the sky is falling, I’ll be ready!  All I need to know is where’s the sheep? Then come see me for some warm clothes, a blanket, and maybe a sock monkey or 2!

Twice in the last two weeks I had discussions with people about the perceived value of craftsmanship. I have also personally debated myself about whether what I do is  art or craft. I have finally come to a personal resolve to this quandary, but I’m not sure the rest of the world would agree.

As you may, or may not, know, there is a particular snobbery about “true” art. Some believe only the true masters like van Gogh, daVinci, Rembrandt and those that follow the master’s style of realism are considered true artists. I have heard people say that modern art, including works made by Pollock, Picasso, and Warhol, is not art.

But I wonder what is the definition of art? Why do some artists refuse to be associated with art shows that include craftsmanship? Why must there be labels on what is and isn’t acceptable forms of art? Most of the time, I think people compare the word craft to utilitarian work, like sewing and woodwork. The word “craft” often seems demeaning, and conjures up things less worthy of the title “art.” When people think of the word “craft” most think of craft stores and craft fairs where dime store yarn is used to make toilet paper cozies.

But the same term, “craft,” is also used to define people like Frank Lloyd Wright,  George Nakashima, and Sam Maloof. These men are recognized for their artistic ability with their craft of wood working. At what point does a person who is craftsman become an artist? Why do most craftsman never get recognized as artists? When does a craft become viewed as art?

Take the Quilts of Gee’s Bend. These quilts were made by poor southern women, who used only what they had on hand to make blankets for their families. Somewhere along the line, these blankets were noticed as something more than craft and since 2002 have been on a touring exhibit at such places as Whitney Museum of American Art in NY and The Museum of Fine Arts in Houston. Why have these blankets received the acknowledgment of true art but the blankets at the craft show are just craft? The women of Gee’s Bend never meant for their quilts to be anything but bed coverings.

To me the art is in the craft. A person who can take a block of wood, scraps of fabric, or globs of paint and rework the material into something beautiful is an artist. Of course beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder, but in my mind a talented craftsman is well-worthy to carry the title of artist. The term artist  is broad in my mind and encompasses many fields.

It takes skill and practice to become a talented painter, potter, woodworker, or quilter. Whether a piece is utilitarian or show quality, it still can be art. One is meant to be used and the other merely meant to be seen. Perceived value is also interpreted through the classification of art vs craft and thus opens another level of discussion. I’ll save that for another time. Until then think about it, is what you see around you Art or Craft?

Its cold outside. I’m sure its the same all over the US. What would you expect for the early weeks of January? Sometimes the best thing to do on a cold day is just stay under the covers, especially if you’re the type that prefers wearing Bermuda shorts all year long. Well, Bolo Chicken-Salad couldn’t stay in this weekend. He’s been waiting for the The Quilting and Fiber Art Marketplace for several months now. Nothing, not even a sub-freezing start to the morning, could keep Bolo the fiber fiend from experiencing this first time venue in Sanford, NC.

Although the weather was cold outside, Bolo soon realized he was properly dressed for this hot event. 38 Vendors and a countless numbers of shoppers packed into the Dennis A. Wicker Civic Center on Friday and Saturday. This was a fiber and quilting artists dream day. Bolo took over 3 hours to stroll the exhibit hall. Occasionally, he couldn’t help himself and was found playing in the vendor’s stash.

Bolo’s first playful stop was at Unique Yarns. Where he indeed found some unique handpainted yarn. Such lovely colors of yarn, some earthy colored sock yarn was added to Bolo’s stash.

His second stop was at Local Colour Hues. Fiber artist Lorin Fields is a fabric dyeing extraordinaire. Bolo loved playing on the rolled cotton fabric bundles, but settled on some dyed Noir silk to bring home.

Oh how can you not have fun at Random Arts’ booth? Owner Jane Powell, was happy about showing off her bits and baubs of random things. If you like old funky things, then you’ll love Random Arts. Bolo was busy checking out the funky ribbons and added some to his take home stash.

Next stop for Bolo was Thimble Pleasures. Here Bolo spent some time hanging out with the owner, Julie Holbrook. What a nice lady! At this booth, Bolo danced around the bins of fabric  and found the perfect animal print for a soon-to-be baby quilt. Bolo also enjoyed seeing the new patterns Thimble Pleasures carry. I think Bolo plans to visit Chapel Hill soon, so he can spent time exploring the beautiful new brick-and-mortar store Julie owns.

Like any fine craftsman, you need the right tools for the job. Bolo’s favorite notions dealer is Schoolhouse Quilts. They’re regulars at most local quilt shows and related events. Any kind of notion you can imagine, they seem to have. So many tools, so little time. When Bolo strolls their booth, you can hear him grunting like Tim, the toolman.

Bolo and I were greatly impressed with this event. As a first time event, we hope that it was as much a success for the vendors and organizers as it seemed to be for the shoppers. For those involved, please come back next year, because nothing could be finer than this fun fiber extravaganza in Carolina.

Thirty-three years ago today, I was a scared 14 year old kid. I experienced a fate that most people don’t experience until they reach adulthood. I would have to grow up fast. January 6, 1977 was a day that would change my life forever…my mother died suddenly from heart failure.

I don’t specifically know what would be different about my life if my mother were still alive, but I do know I view many things differently through these fate-filled glasses that I wear. We all have life experiences that mold our being, so I’m not asking for sympathy. Life happens to all of us.

What hits me heavily this anniversary, is the reality of mortality and time. In a few weeks, I will reach an age older than my mother lived on this Earth. She died 3 months before her 48th birthday. I turn 48 in a few weeks. I have officially outlived my mother.

In my late teens, I remember working in a retail store and the subject of my mother came up.  The “older” ladies I was talking to were surprised to hear how “young” my mother was when she passed. My youth filled mind couldn’t understand them. Forty-seven is old…or so I thought back then.

So what does this anniversary mean? It’s making me step back and review my life, not just my last year, as most do this time of year.  I hope I live longer than  my mother and I hope I can achieve some of my “wishes” in life. I remember her saying to me “If wishes were fishes, we’d all be in the sea.”

Until recently, I had a difficult time understanding this statement. I “thought” I knew what she meant.  I did a Google search and found that the actual phrase is  “If wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets in the sea.” Maybe I remember wrong, or maybe she just said it wrong, either way, now I get it.

I look at this year ahead of me and I think of wishes and fishes, and realize that I must act on my dreams. If obtaining a dream or wish were easy, we’d all be catching them. I have my whole life in front of me. I hope I live to see another year; I hope I see at least a few more decades. But fate has a way of interfering, so you must live for the day, strive for your dreams and don’t just sit there and wait for the bounty. The bountiful harvest happens through hard work and proactive ambition.  This year, I plan to remember what my mother was trying to tell me. Here’s to all the fishes in the sea!

Oh Dear…I’m at it again. Some twenty years ago, I thought it would be cool to make all the nieces and nephews a cool Rockford Sock Co. Sock Monkey. I know one of those simians is still rooming around this house.

Some of my family still remember the time I went sock monkey crazy. A few years back, my sister insisted on buying me sock monkey pj’s. I never asked the significance of this gift, because I guess I knew. Why else would you want to buy your grown sister sock monkey flannels?

So yet another decade is passing through my life. You would think that one adventure in sock monkeys would be enough, but NOOOO….I’m still hook on this crazy little toy, and during my quiet holiday break, I finished making two more.

This set of simians are different from the “originals.”  Instead of using pre-made socks, I knit them from Patons wool yarn. I picked up the pattern free at Micheal’s and now I see that its part of booklet that you have to buy. I didn’t really like the Patons pattern so I modified the little guys to make them look like what I thought a sock monkey should looked like.

These two little characters will be off to their new home soon. A friend of mine became the proud 1st time grandma of twins this month. The simian twins were knit for her. I should stop this fascination with making monkeys, but I think some funky monkeys are in my future.

Earlier this month, my friend Bolo Chicken-Salad flew to Chicago.  There are very few brave souls who travel to Chicago in the winter, Bolo in his bermudas is just one of those odd ducks…err. I mean chickens.

On a particular yucky Chicago winter day, Bolo hit the streets to see the sites of the big Windy City. The locals insisted it was a nice day because it was warm, albeit windy and rainy. Funny, were Bolo lives that’s considered a cold rainy, miserable day. Well when in Rome (or Chicago)….

Chicagoans are generally nice people. Bolo had an enjoyable time meeting new friends, Jake and Elwood. He also met Ms. “S” who introduced him to a fun store on Michigan Avenue called the Chicago Architecture Foundation. (Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bird…~”splat”~. Thanks, Ms. “S”).

If you’ve ever been to Chicago, you know how important the architecture is to this fine city. Even the new can look old, as is seen by the ornate neo-classical styling of the Chicago Public Library’s Harold Washington Library Center on State Street. This library, completed in 1991, looks like it has been part of the Chicago landscape since Mrs. O’Leary. Bolo loved the larger than life roof corner detail of the owl, which represents the Greek symbol for knowledge.

Another famous architectural landmark of Chicago is the Art Institute’s bronze lions which stand facing Michigan Ave. The lions were made for the Art Institute’s current location as a gift by Mrs. Henry Field (no not the cookie lady). Henry Field was the younger brother of the Chicago department store mogul, Marshall Field. Henry was an avid art collector and was one of the first Board of Trustees for the Chicago Art Institute. The lions have proudly stood on guard since 1893. The “north” lion, pictured here, is “on the prowl,” so Bolo quickly finished the photo op and was on his way. A tiny fiber chicken, is a mere snack to these massive animals.

Bolo enjoyed his first trip to Chi-town. However, he learned quickly that the South-Side of Chicago is the baddest part of town. That if you go down there you better just beware of a man named Elwood Blues.  Bolo was quickly singing the blues and heading out on the next flight.

Did you ever have the thought that there is something you should be doing and you always seem to have an excuse to keep you from doing it? The word describing this behavior is “procrastination.” Wikipedia says this about procrastination, “Psychologists often cite such as a mechanism for coping with the anxiety associated with starting and/or completing any task or decision.” And it says, “Procrastination may result in a sense of guilt and crisis severe loss of personal productivity, as well as disapproval by others for not meeting responsibilities or commitments.”

Oh boy…that’s me!!! I often try to look at what I do and learn from it. This is one situation that really has some hard lessons for me to learn.

Over three years ago I agreed to (practically insisted on) making a quilt for an extended family member. They would pay for the materials and I would make the quilt.  He admired a quilt I made for my brother and really wanted one of his own. I realize now that there was a lot of anxiety floating in me about this quilt. Would it be good enough?

On and off over the 3 years, I worked on parts of the quilt. Fabric was purchased (without a design in mind). Photos were sent to me, I cropped out the backgrounds, and then printed the images on fabric. I started designs and became frustrated and halted the process and later started it again.

About 6 weeks ago, I was ready to call it quits. Something really was holding me back on this project. When I thought of it, I was anxious. I knew those involved were probably getting frustrating with the time it was taking me. Other family members reminded me that I should finish.

Then 4 weeks ago, I was invited to a family party and I found out this person who wanted this quilt would be there. How could I face them in person with no quilt in hand. The feelings of angst would be more than I could bare.

So…the last 2 weeks (after finishing the Dresden Plate Quilt), I hunkered down and put all my time into completing this long standing mental challenge.

When the quilt was finished last week, many asked me did I finally feel relieved? No, it wasn’t until I “knew” the recipient loved it that I would feel the relief. So, last Friday, without him knowing it was coming. The recipient found the long awaited motorcycle quilt finished and laying on his bed.  I never saw anyone so excited to receive one of my quilts. I had succeeded!

So what did I learn? 1) I’m not good at commission work. Don’t Ask me and I won’t volunteer. If you want a quilt, you can tell me your ideas and maybe I’ll get the inspiration to make one for you. 2) I need deadlines. Open ended obligations usually get put off quite frequently on my “to-do” list. 3) And finally, never give up. Sometimes it just takes me awhile to get a round to it.  If it means enough to me…it will get done.

With that said, I must accept these realities about myself and get back to work. This wasn’t the only thing on my “to-do” list.

Living with the name Nanette has been interesting. There are very few of me. Oh sure there are some with similar names, for example there is my sister-in-law “Annette”, I have run into a few “Danette’s”, an occasional “Claudette”, and there’s also the “Nannette” (2 n’s in the middle).

It is only on rare occasions that I find an actual “ME” in the crowd. For some reason, it is always exciting. “Really, your name is Nanette?” “Do you spell it with 1 “n” or 2?” Then the conversation continues about how it was for you to live with this unusual name. “How many other’s of ‘us’ have you met in your life?”

As a kid I remember a clothing line called “Nannette.” Sure, it was fun to wear “her” clothes, but it just wasn’t the same because of the spelling. Lately, I’ve been stumbling on more of “us.” More designers too. That’s crazy. Maybe it’s because the world is smaller through the Internet, it is much easier to find unusual things in this era.

I surf the web alot and stumble on many things. It was to great surprise last week that I found my name…my “real” name associated with fabric. Michael Miller, a fabric company, created an entire line of fabric in MY NAME. What’s this…and NO ONE told me? Goodness knows I love Michael Miller’s fabric.

The sad news is, as is normal for fabric, the line is discontinued. They print fabric only for only a short period, so us textile loving people feel the urge to buy everything we can. You learn after awhile, if you love it you better buy it, because it won’t be around for long.

So, of course, I love this fabric and I had to have all I could find…because goodness knows I may NEVER see MY NAME in fabric again. Thank goodness the world is smaller and the Internet graces my life, because I am now proud owner of 5 yards of MY fabric…thank you EBay.

Time to re-group. Its already 2 days into December. This year is rushing by. November has ended and I didn’t complete my personal challenge to make art everyday. I made a good attempt until Thanksgiving rolled on through.

The one project that had me busy until the last minute last Wednesday was the Dresden plate quilt I finished. I hinted at it during the month and now that it is in the hands of it new owner I can talk about it. The spies can no longer ruin my surprise.

My grandmother’s half-sister Dorothy, passed away 2 years ago, the last of her generation. Dorothy held on to things which were then passed to my sister. My mother’s family was talented in quilting, sewing, crocheting, and cooking. In Aunt Dorothy’s collection of things were several bundles of quilt blocks that my Grandmother appliqued. With my interests, my sister decided to pass the blocks on to me.

One set of blocks was a Dresden plate pattern. 24 identical and perfectly hand appliqued blocks. The fabric in the blocks came from the 1930’s.  My grandmother gave up quilting by the mid-1970’s, so the blocks were significantly “vintage.”

When I first brought the blocks home, a friend of mine, who loves antique quilts, fell in love with them and their feedsack fabrics. She wanted to work with them. On a shopping trip to MaryJo’s Clothworld in Gastonia, NC, we searched and found the perfect fabric that would be traditional for the pretty little blocks. My friend took the fabric and blocks home, to piece them together with mint green sashing and butter yellow corner stones. She finished the quilt top around 2005.

The blocks, now as a quilt top, returned to me and sat in “the” closet, until last month. I often make things and they need to sit, like fine whiskey. Eventually, a thought tells me who this creation belongs to. This quilt belonged in the family and to someone who probably was missing her mother and siblings…my mother’s sister, the only surviving child of my grandmother.

When my aunt invited us to Thanksgiving dinner with her, I knew I had to finish this quilt for the “Big Bird Day” I spent several days machine quilting the layers of fabric and hand sewing on the binding. It has been quite a while since I finished a “life-sized” quilt. It felt good.

It also felt good that I could pass this on. I have many UFOs (UnFinished Objects) in my studio and its true that my grandmother did too. Its nice to know that I completed something she started so many years ago.  It has a new life outside “the” closet and hopefully will be enjoyed for many years.

So at Thanksgiving this year, I am thankful that I have a good family. I am thankful I was raised to be a strong, wise, and independent woman. I am thankful that I was blessed with talents and abilities that give me joy and comfort and the fortitude to appreciate how lucky I really am. I hope that I am able to share my talents and bring smiles to those around me. To me, giving thanks is appreciating the non-tangible things in our lives, the blessing and gifts we receive every day and often ignore.