A friend of mine, Jeanne, posted a link to a YouTube video that has really affected me. Its a little tune about making art. Wow! It says everything that I think about my art.

“If I make it will someone take it and think that its genuine? Will they be glad that I, did because they got something good out of it? Will they leave me and be any more inspired?”

“And I question the outcome of the outpouring of myself. If I tell everyone my stories will this keep me healthy and well? Will it give me purpose and to this world some sort of service? Is it worth it? How can I tell?”

What do you think? “Art” - You Tube Video

We had a nice Thanksgiving visiting with friends. Lots of kids and lots of great food. Our friends are still active duty Army. Visiting with them always makes me think of our armed forces. These folks and their families give so much for our country, you can’t realize what it takes unless you’ve lived it. I’m thankful for these friends and the rest of our armed forces. Their sacrifices allow me the life I live today.

As I was prepping our part of the Thanksgiving feast, I worked on some yarn projects.  Cook a little, knit a little. A great way to pass the in between time waiting for things to cook.

One of the things I did was tend to wrangling wayward yarn, using a cool tool that I purchased on Etsy this summer. During an Etsy window shopping adventure, I stumbled on the Craftiness shop.  Originally, I was attracted to his turned-wood pens made from rifle casings (bullets). He also had some other very cool pens that caught my attention. Then I saw this thing called a nostepinne. Craftiness has some beautiful nostepinnes made from exotic woods. I do love wood.  But, what the heck is this thing?

The description of nostepinnes reads “A nostepinne is a Scandinavian knitting tool used to wind your own center pull yarn ball the old fashioned, low-tech way.”

Whattcha Majig

My thought was “It makes CENTER PULL yarn balls. Why haven’t I ever heard of this before?” I HAD to buy one, the wood is beautiful. I chose a deep “Purple Heartwood.” When the wahttcha majig arrived, now I had to master the art of this low-tech winding technique. It took me awhile, but now I get it And I love this cool little tool.

OK, so you non-knitters are probably wondering why would a center pull yarn ball be so important and give me such pleasure to create. Well let me tell you… Some of the better yarns and most of the hand-dyed yarns are sold in hanks…not balls. A hank is a big loop of yarn. It is literally impossible to knit from a hank. As you pull a strand of yarn, it gets tangled with the other strands in the hank, resulting in a giant yarn knot. When you buy yarn in hanks, you have to wind it up to avoid the knots. They sell a contraption that will do this for you, but its expensive and its a bulky thing to store.

You don’t need a tool to wind a ball of yarn…but the stands won’t pull from the center. So as you knit the ball unravels and rolls around everywhere with each tug. This provides great entertainment for the cats. Having a yarn ball that pulls from the center allows the yarn to neatly unravel while it stays motionless, eliminating the chasing game.

The nostepinne has been one of the coolest things I’ve discovered this year. Am I a nerd, or what?

Can’t believe its been so long since I last wrote. Goodness. As I rummaged through my pictures from the last few weeks, I realized all that I’ve done. This explains why you haven’t heard from me in awhile.

My ATCs Fall 2008

The weekend of Nov. 13-16, I spent running back and forth to Raleigh. The mixed media guild I belong to volunteered to help at an artist trade show, called Art of the Carolinas (AoC). Jerry’s Artarama sponsors this show every year. Besides helping the instructors, our guild also had a Make and Take area. We volunteered to set up a creative station where folks could join us in making Artist Trading Cards (ATCs). Folks could sit down with us for free and glue and paint little works of art. Once complete you can trade you mini-masterpiece for an other artist’s creation.

More ATCs

ATC trading is a big thing in areas. Mixed media and altered art folks tend to be the most prolific with their trading, but word is spreading and more people are getting involved. Take a stack of ATCs to a show and trade your “calling cards” with other artists. This is much like the fad of trading pins at the Olympics…except ATC are original works of art.So prior to the show, I made a bunch of ATCs for trading with people who visited our booth. The pictures her show the variety of work I did over the last few months.

Following AoC, I had a week of catch-up and now…oh, dear…its Thanksgiving tomorrow. What a whirlwind of time.

I also created some more pins for art gallery. Now that the pins are well stocked in the gallery, I can focus on larger items in my repertoire.

As I write this, I think of where I am write now. Not just physically where I am, but emotionally. This past year I have found a very supportive group of friends that understand me…and who I understand in return. Its been a long time to get here. These artistic souls are helping me along this path of life right now. They are encouraging me to open up my wings and jump off the cliff…and hopefully soar.

This next year offers many opportunities for me. And I’m excited to share it with you. If you’re reading this…then, thank you for all that you do. You have touched my life.

Over the summer, I bought a book called “Wreck This Journal” by Keri Smith. The concept of the book is that “to create is to destroy.” How true!

As a mixed media artist, you sometimes have to take things that are precious and alter them. For me cutting up a beautiful piece of fabric, can be traumatizing. Slopping paint, ink, or glue on a shiny new thing that’s scary. Punching holes, ripping or otherwise altering something old is sacrilegious.  But all of these things are necessary if you’re an artist. You must get over the thought that your destroying something.

As a kid, I remember being taught to respect books. DON’T crack the spine. Every new school year we made great efforts to cover our school books with kraft paper grocery bags. We meticulously folded and taped the edges so that when the book was returned in June, it maintained its immaculate appearance. I find the new artistic style of altered books fascinating, but its difficult for me to imagine that someone has ripped the poor thing to shreds and gobbed it with glue, paint and ephemera. AH!! Isn’t that one of the mortal sins?

In my effort to find myself as an artist, I decided to purchase Keri’s book. What could it hurt?

The book is loaded with pages of directions. Many of the pages are practically blank with instructions on how you should destroy them or the entire book.  I wondered for awhile if I would pack the book away and ignore its heathenistic calling. NOPE! I quickly got busy destroying the pages.

I brought the book with me on a camping trip with my family.  I started the process by passing time on the long car drive to the camp ground. I cracked the spine HARD! and dug in my purse to find objects to trace. No matter how hard you try, you can’t be neat tracing objects in a moving vehicle.  At first the family thought I was nuts, but soon they got into the destruction with me. I brought my great-nephew down to the pond to paint some pages with mud. Had I lost my mind? Painting with pond scum mud, . . . in a book?

The best part (so far) was tying a string to the spine of the book and attaching it to my brother’s ATV. I laughed watching the book bounce behind us as we drove across the bumpy, un-manicured landscape. The trip around the property forced the string to rip through the spine almost severing in two. The string is now securely embedded into the book’s spine and isn’t coming out

I have lots more pages to wreck in this book. But, I must say that Keri’s concept has triggered a little light in my brain.  She has given me permission to do something that otherwise would go against my personality. Through this awakening, I will work through my art. I have been given the permission to “destroy in order to create!” Thanks Keri!

Another part of my adventure, with my friend Mary Stori, last weekend was a trip to Biltmore Estates, the largest privately owned home in the United States. Wow! Biltmore was built by George Vanderbilt on 125,00 acres in Asheville, NC. It took 6 years to build and was officially opened as a home during Christmas of 1895. The “house” has 250 rooms and 43 bathrooms. Considering most homes at that time didn’t have indoor plumbing, the bathroom deal is something astonishing. Of course with all those bathrooms, the only ones open to the public are the ones in the old stable building. Go figure!

I enjoyed looking around the house. They wouldn’t let anyone take pictures inside, so you’ll have to go yourself to believe what I’m saying. Couples didn’t share bedrooms. The house had its own bowling alley, indoor pool, and state-of-the-art fitness center (well at least it was high class for it’s time). Walking through the house reminded me of walking through the castles in Germany. Cold, rigid, elaborate, and excess.

I received the most enjoyment with seeing how the staff lived. Although modest accommodations compared to their employers, the staff seemed to have nice digs. Of course, we wondered how much history is altered for the tour. Was there really only one employee per room, as the single beds suggested? Or did they cram 5 or 6 people in each of the tiny rooms?

Of course the current employees, fully dosed on their happy pills, wouldn’t hint to a different reality.

I loved the ornamental architecture features on the building’s facade. Having lived in Chicago for 25 years, I can’t help appreciate the Gothic characters guarding the building. Makes me think I should add some gargoyles to my house. But most definitely a couple lions, need to protect my front doors (a la Chicago’s Art Institute) .

Be sure to click on the picture of the lion, it pretty cool looking at the lady taking its picture.

After we walked through the Estate, Mary and I went to the Stables. These days, the stable building next to the house no longer houses the horses. The family converted the stables into a restaurant for visitors. Even the horses had it good, the stalls are now booth tables. Fancy wrought iron adorns the top of the stalls. Its a nice place to eat. Food and service is good. The staff here also seemed to have an adequate supply of happy pills. Click on the picture of Mary and you’ll see the stalls behind her.

From the visit to this fabulous mansion, I realized, if I had a million dollars, I couldn’t live in such excess as the Vanderbilts. I prefer my simple life. A wonderful husband, dogs that force me to walk them daily, a yard that needs occasional maintenance, and a messy studio full of fiber. Ah! I’m living the good life!

I’ve been trying to write regulary, but life has a tendency to get in my way. I spend many hours in front of this plastic box that sometimes I can’t bare to sit in front of it any more than I have to. This is one reason why I relished last weekend. I spent 4 full days away from a computer… of course, I’ve been paying for it this past week in backlogged email. If you’re expecting to hear from me…don’t fret…I haven’t forgotten about you. You’re next on my list, honest!

So you ask what could possibly take me away from my computer soul. Well, FIBER of course!!! Surely, by now, you know that this is my passion.

On Friday, October 24, I drove to Asheville, NC to visit my friend, Mary Stori and explore the Southeastern Animal Fiber Fair. I met her in Waynesville, NC on Friday, then Saturday we drove to Asheville for the Fair. Neither of us really knew what to expect. But we sure had fun!

The fair is held at the Fletcher, NC Ag Fair Grounds. Western NC is very rural, so imagine a building that you might watch a rodeo…dirt floor arena, classrooms held inside metal stalls set up in the middle of the arena, folks sitting in bleachers with their spinning wheels, and vendors surrounding you with every kind of fiber you can imagine. I’m talking animal fiber…rabbits, sheep, alpacas, and llamas. Wool, yarn, fleece and roving. Everything for the spinner, felter and knitter.

Of course there’s the people too.  Yes, contrary to popular belief, men too enjoy fiber arts. Check out this pack of merry men. The leader of the pack…uhum…well, shall we say you could point him out as he left the room.

I am stocked full of wool to keep me motivated for awhile. Will show you some of the cool stuff soon.

If you want to read more about my visit. Check out Mary’s Blog and here synopsis of our adventures
Mary’s SAFF Report #1
Mary’s SAFF Report #2 (hint: Want to know what I look like?)

Yesterday, I received word that my aunt’s son died, my oldest cousin. Scott was a different soul, his gift was to make people laugh. A handsome man that followed his own path in life, right or wrong. His passing spurred me to call his oldest sister. During my phone call with Jill, I realized how much she meant to me. I have maybe talked to her 5 times in my life, but when we talk I feel so comfortable talking with her.

Jill and I talked about many things, especially family. Is there such a thing as inherited creativity? I think our shared genetics demonstrates the creative soul in our family. Some pursue the passion, others have their little hobbies, and some just let the creativity sit dormant (maybe permanently). My talk with Jill was good. I think of her often. She doesn’t live too far from here and I should visit her more. But “life” gets in the way.

Then while talking with my sister about the passing of Scott, she mentioned the “other side” of the family. She went to my uncle’s services earlier this month (read). In her visit, she re-connected with my mother’s family.  She felt deeply connected with some of the family. Even though they live many states apart, she felt  as if they were good friends she saw every day.

I had a similar experience several years ago, where I reconnected with another cousin I hardly knew. Again the connection happened around a death, this time his father, my uncle.

It is sad to experience the death of family. Its like a hole is ripped from you. The size of the whole correlates to the intensity of the relationship. But none-the-less something is missing from you, when you have to say good-bye. The fact is we’re all going to go. We’re going to lose someone we love and we’re going to leave someone behind.

Although, I don’t like to be around death. I can appreciate it for the beauty it holds. It makes you stop and reflect upon your life. It brings you closer to people. It has the ability to soften your soul or make it harder. It molds you like a piece of clay. I enjoy the beauty of reconnecting with people I love and the occasional kick in the head that tells me “don’t neglect this relationship.”

Last month, while walking the dogs. I found this butterfly. It must have only recently seen its death. The bug was completely intact and outrageously beautiful. I took many photos, because rarely will I have the opportunity to be this close to see the details of such a majestic creature. So again, death offered me beauty. It made me stop and realize that life is beautiful.

Take a moment to think about the beauty in your life and cherish it. Don’t wait for death to show you the door.

On Sunday I had a wonderful opportunity to be part of a test class for a Cultural Cloth Workshop taught by my friend Ann Flaherty. Ann has developed this class to help educate people on the diversity of various cultures. Our assignment was to represent a culture in a fiber-based artistic composition. Eight talented women had an enjoyable time in this no sew class, composing our beliefs about our given culture. We also shared a cultural potluck lunch with foods representing our given theme.

The cullture I chose was New Orleans. New Orleans, in my mind, is truly a melting pot. The foods, traditions, and life style truly portray the blended ethnic and religous backgrounds that formed this facinating city.

I remember in high school how one year our marching band (yeah, I was a band geek) was promised to attend Mardi Gras. Our participation never happened. I don’t know why, maybe we didn’t have the money. Or maybe the instructors didn’t want to deal with a bunch of Chicago Public School teenagers on a free-for-all in New Orleans. Anyway we never went.

Many years later, on a whim, I convinced my husband to visit this great city with me. For a short, but fun-filled, entertaining 4 days, we explored the city. My high school dream was realized. I was amazed at the juxtaposition of the cultures, both current and historical.

New Orleans is known for it party life, especially along Boubon Street. However, it is also know for its strong faith. Carnival is the celebration that most of us refer to as Mardi Gras. Technically, the culmination of the Carnival events is Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday. Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, is the day after Fat Tuesday. I view Carinval as a free-for-all celebration, where rompous sinning is allowed, because all will be forgiven during the fasting of Lent.

Many Haitians brought their VooDoo culture to the city. The Spanish, French, American Indian, and Cubans also had their cultural influences on the city. I remember standing on Canal Street and feeling the presence of the characters from “A Street Car Named Desire.” I was transported in time back to the 1950s.

I loved walking the city and experiencing all the sounds and smells, both good and bad. The music moved me. The human characters intrigued me. If it wasn’t for the oppressive heat and humidity of Louisiana, I would want to live there.

Several years after my visit, I watched the story of Hurricane Katrina unfold. I was heart-sick as I watched the the residents of this fine city suffer. So many lives were affected. So much history destroyed. The city may never be the same, but the culture will still be rich.

I look at the colors of Mardi Gras – purple represents justice; green is for faith; and gold stands for power — and realize the hues truly represent this fine city. May the colors stand true and continue to stand for the importance of this blended historical culture, justice, faith and power.

Today I’m in the process of wrapping up some things that have been waiting for me. My felted pins will find their new home in our local gallery Artist Alley. I’m excited about this, its another first step to really being professional with my work.

Another thing that I’m doing is getting all my donation quilts ready to go to Alzheimer’s Art Quilt Initiative. You have to register your quilts first. Of course, other things have always been in the way, so today is the day I registered them. I also scanned the pieces so Ami can have them uploaded to the web site more quickly. Of the work that I did for AAQI this summer, there are two that I really enjoy. I would like to keep them…but they need to be somewhere else.

The quilts belong to a 2-part series I made. With both quilts I quilted plain white muslin and then colorized the quilted fabric with water color pencils. A little spritz of water and the tie-dye effect appeared. The fabric was nice, but it needed something. I hand embroidered flowers and then added rubber stamped words to express the emotion.

There’s something about the color and simplicity of these quilts that I find striking. I am also becoming intune to using words on quilts. What a way to get people to think. Of course, that’s only what “nanette says.”

They’ll be off to Flint, MI soon. I hope they bring joy to the next owner and lots of money for AAQI.

I am on a roll with needle felting. Margo Duke, my instructor on Friday, probably doesn’t realize the beast she created. I had another fun couple days taking ordinary fibers and blending them together to make a new fabric piece. I can’t believe the amount of things I have in my arsenal to work these projects. I’ve been collecting for awhile and suddenly everything is blending together. Several months ago, I made some “shrinky-dink” charms and they go perfect with this new purple passion rendering. I also bought a huge bag of embroidery floss at a flea market not too long ago…that too is incorporated in this work. Beads, threads, and yarns that have been stashed are coming out of the closet. Wow!

So what do you call this art form? I guess, because of all the layers, it would be called collage. But the term collage, renders thoughts of paper and paint. I haven’t added any of those items…yet…

Then what do you  do with it once it is finished? Yeah, there’s the ordinary “make in into a pillow or purse” route. HoHum, says Nanette. I see fish. Well not exactly yet. This piece is intended for another purpose. It took a great deal of guts…but when I was finished…I cut it into tiny pieces. As a big piece (9″ x 12″), not many people can enjoy it…but if you cut it into smaller pieces more people can take a slice home.  That’s were the idea for pins comes in. Tiny little adorements to wear on a lapel. What do you think?

Can you tell I’m having fun with this? I think I found my niche. I just took several decades to get there.