tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-166348002024-03-11T08:01:43.128-07:00AND SEW IT GOESMy art, my life, my family and whatever strikes my fancyTerry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.comBlogger1905125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-1255195961211902612022-02-22T12:52:00.007-08:002022-02-23T00:12:42.454-08:00We made a book!<p style="text-align: center;"> .</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsenwv6qfC8V9dyT0fW64ozDFiCelLVZdFqkRxRgf7uIJH0yR45iDgRo5y-XEe2ADsg7f9kBXyOADrbWeyfojO0OC5T5d0jql_23q0KUTlBe5G8h8WZK82RcXJDxXQ3HcgRMhgAFE7o9jseuRRJtRAGPtJ3S1ph5MhgKKDzRSdON8VmfNjUQ=s1640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1619" data-original-width="1640" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsenwv6qfC8V9dyT0fW64ozDFiCelLVZdFqkRxRgf7uIJH0yR45iDgRo5y-XEe2ADsg7f9kBXyOADrbWeyfojO0OC5T5d0jql_23q0KUTlBe5G8h8WZK82RcXJDxXQ3HcgRMhgAFE7o9jseuRRJtRAGPtJ3S1ph5MhgKKDzRSdON8VmfNjUQ=w435-h429" width="435" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was almost two years ago that I got an email from Amanda Snavely, asking if I would be interested in being the graphic designer for a book project that the Oregon region of Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) was beginning to plan. Yes, I would! Very soon I was meeting with the committee to discuss how we could bring Amanda’s vision to fruition. I am a member of SAQA and active with the local group and knew that we held an exhibition of juried work from artists within our Oregon region every two years. In the midst of a pandemic there were many questions about the feasibility and practicability of setting up venues for in-person shows, so Amanda had the idea for a book of juried work instead. The committee liked the idea and reasoned that if the pandemic slowed sufficiently in the coming year we could also plan some in-person showings of the pieces in the book. We secured a respected juror, <a href="http://www.hollybrackmann.com/">Holly Brackmann</a>, and invited Oregon SAQA members to submit proposals for completing a fiber art piece within a 6-month time period, taking photos and documenting the process in words, all of which would be put together in a book. 21 artists, including myself, were selected for the project. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I was very excited about the opportunity to design the book, but a bit apprehensive as well. It has been quite a few years since I retired from my graphic design career and things change pretty rapidly. I would be using newer software and more modern technology. I was rusty, but this was the kind of job that I love most of all. I hadn’t started out as a graphic designer but after getting a college degree in art, and dabbling at any kind of job that had a creative element, I decided to go back to school and actually learn how to become a graphic designer. To my great surprise, I fell in love with typography and publications. Unlike my younger fellow students who had their sights set on jobs in advertising or illustration, I was hoping for something that would have me working with publishing. I was lucky enough to go to work for a National non-profit and spent my years there producing magazines, booklets and even books, until I retired. I loved my work and enjoyed doing work that was important to people, but I always thought I would love to design a book that was about art and ideas and could be something beautiful in itself. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Once the SAQA book artists were chosen, the editor, Sharon Carvalho, and I started working out a plan and timeline and means of communicating with the artists. It was complicated, but everyone remained flexible and we ended up with a pretty smooth process in the end. It was a <b>lot</b> of work! There are 400 photos in the book, every one of which I had to deal with individually, resizing, tweaking color, brightness, resolution and contrast, then placing in a logical sequence that followed the text. Meanwhile Sharon was working with text, editing for word counts and style and spelling and grammar and readability and all the things that would make the content flow as a seamless set of stories. Yes, lots of work, but each time I saw that someone had added new photos to our Dropbox I got excited all over again! The artists were really embracing the challenge of telling the stories and showing the progress and decisions, and sometimes difficulties, of the work they were making. And—Sharon and I were both selected artists, so we were making our own fiber art and documenting it at the same time. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The final step was photographing the final pieces. We wanted these photos to be very good and very consistent, so we were able to hire professional photographer, Kayley Hoddick to photograph each piece. It was the final finishing touch! The printed book is now <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RW7P48V?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860">available on Amazon</a>. The title is <b>Emergence: Fiber Art from Concept to Stitch</b>. I’m really proud of it. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Here is my quilt for the book:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKGQT-zpxsA6mqkOvpm9iNVeFEPM1O1oAwmirx39ZNr-evSF0vyaBY_146BECxZ_hT4vcW0ALdYE0tVRpeLAIZpGkr8KMyOqNjEKjxDd3RcJ3AYnIuxq6x1g8UwrQF1LwScxvc0jIK9FfocrNjluAbA7BkUJiNgvFErWqvpVfURIEH5Yue2A=s1797" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1797" data-original-width="1228" height="529" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKGQT-zpxsA6mqkOvpm9iNVeFEPM1O1oAwmirx39ZNr-evSF0vyaBY_146BECxZ_hT4vcW0ALdYE0tVRpeLAIZpGkr8KMyOqNjEKjxDd3RcJ3AYnIuxq6x1g8UwrQF1LwScxvc0jIK9FfocrNjluAbA7BkUJiNgvFErWqvpVfURIEH5Yue2A=w362-h529" width="362" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by Kayley Hoddick</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It is called<i> Stories in the Cloth</i>. I use a lot of recycled fabric, primarily men’s shirts, in my work. I like to think they have stories associated with them that I will never know. This piece is my way of expressing that thought. Below is a closeup detail. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhO4Wsguv0eEFHwl4Yo-84ReZVY5flkYXiFiCXD-TCyEZ8OzcbEyJjOx3zc1vjoAmHF8pocJoPNy0zPygVrXh38rC-91J6haUfY4ICEcBpvKSsrIZ_HaHK6ov6wmfvctmCchMKLvSn3EGs4Bx1PBbCjkwq3wzlaDMaNQq9ooJN7FyOioTrLVg=s1964" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1964" data-original-width="1319" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhO4Wsguv0eEFHwl4Yo-84ReZVY5flkYXiFiCXD-TCyEZ8OzcbEyJjOx3zc1vjoAmHF8pocJoPNy0zPygVrXh38rC-91J6haUfY4ICEcBpvKSsrIZ_HaHK6ov6wmfvctmCchMKLvSn3EGs4Bx1PBbCjkwq3wzlaDMaNQq9ooJN7FyOioTrLVg=w259-h385" width="259" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by Kayley Hoddick</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-6552387663930750862022-01-13T14:13:00.003-08:002022-01-14T14:35:54.130-08:00At a loss for words<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7_lgfwI9_eXWLb-rN542fxsPu0b5AF5pX8LuluDKPymRgn7eQdTxDCRM11oZQNyjXPVZqmsHvDh6E9RAnXQUsZ3t0DGtBG4VBiKwb7rBxWZjVqD4z2p22yiRHVKnYI-TYkldML2cpYJZj4pAHD0g-iMGNfCtGq40-tC-kPuEQrxJ8TJpmzA=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7_lgfwI9_eXWLb-rN542fxsPu0b5AF5pX8LuluDKPymRgn7eQdTxDCRM11oZQNyjXPVZqmsHvDh6E9RAnXQUsZ3t0DGtBG4VBiKwb7rBxWZjVqD4z2p22yiRHVKnYI-TYkldML2cpYJZj4pAHD0g-iMGNfCtGq40-tC-kPuEQrxJ8TJpmzA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Happy New Year, I guess. It’s hard to imagine, at this point, what this year will bring and frankly I don’t have the mental energy to put on my optimistic face and conjure thoughts of “better times ahead” or other such positive thoughts. I’m not feeling especially pessimistic, just deeply uncertain and resigned to taking 2022 a day at a time. For more than 10 years I have made a small ritual of choosing a word for the New Year. This started in an online group I belonged to and I liked the idea of an aspirational word, rather than resolutions to aspire to. I chose my word, then made a tiny banner to hang on my studio wall as a reminder. Here are some from recent years.<div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhflz2tdVPJaimeIgaDHqC3LOj95-oYHuMRUiTYQN6cd7IU80DAwrsaVBETq33flMA6ytNtjTkGpZbVZ9o02wf8KjOy-JNw9PaQjYs68gjLdT0ZH-3z5Zpg_xdCCPfWZcjs6T-ZCSzUVBu430OGe-zVGT0i2Hypc52oAME9HQtYsEkcVUlD3g=s3024" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="2415" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhflz2tdVPJaimeIgaDHqC3LOj95-oYHuMRUiTYQN6cd7IU80DAwrsaVBETq33flMA6ytNtjTkGpZbVZ9o02wf8KjOy-JNw9PaQjYs68gjLdT0ZH-3z5Zpg_xdCCPfWZcjs6T-ZCSzUVBu430OGe-zVGT0i2Hypc52oAME9HQtYsEkcVUlD3g=s320" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Oh, how naïve I was to choose “hope” for 2021, considering how hopeless I was feeling by the end. I pondered an appropriate word for for 2022 and nothing was right. Who can even plan? Giving it an upbeat word seems like dare. Giving it a pessimistic word is too depressing. I think 2022 will have to earn its own word and maybe I’ll figure out by December. Maybe not. Maybe 2022 will be the indefinable year that we just group in with 20 and 21 as “those awful pandemic years” when we look back at it. <div><br /></div><div>My “almost word” for 2022 is “alignment.” This quote resonated:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>When the basis for your actions is inner alignment with the present moment, your </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>actions become empowered by the intelligence of life itself.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>-Elkhart Tolle</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I think a key to getting through all this is that alignment with the present moment—doing what needs to be done when there is danger, finding joy when the opportunity arises, being fully engaged in the present and resisting the urge to live in the past or the future. But that’s our job, not an inspiring word of the year. So here we go into a New Year, What'ya got for us 2022? What's your word?</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-80399023354465436882021-07-23T08:41:00.003-07:002021-07-23T10:57:29.583-07:00Summer phone photos<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoBfmL2OmRn9tV-iX1eNR2N_lbS7JKZpWmnw9dYGqjpnu-hK1VEENcXUIpLSwnLdnZwWL1QmolGcVHv2Cyd6OKaD5oCc11xeDxBs1RNb99utpK1YKbBt5gfLtbOgtm3rye15z/s1067/252CFBD1-814C-47FA-83AF-8AC0493E89F7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoBfmL2OmRn9tV-iX1eNR2N_lbS7JKZpWmnw9dYGqjpnu-hK1VEENcXUIpLSwnLdnZwWL1QmolGcVHv2Cyd6OKaD5oCc11xeDxBs1RNb99utpK1YKbBt5gfLtbOgtm3rye15z/s320/252CFBD1-814C-47FA-83AF-8AC0493E89F7.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> Suddenly it’s the middle of July! I have been loving the feeling of freedom that the summer brought, with fewer restrictions regarding COVID precautions. This last week has brought concerning news, though, about the more dangerous variant of the virus and rising rates of infection. It continues to astound me that there are still people refusing to take COVID seriously and those who who refuse the vaccine. Depressing to imagine that this pandemic will drag on and on, if this thinking continues. I’m sad and sorry for everyone living in those communities where it is surging and ever grateful that my friends and neighbors here in Western Oregon have had the wisdom to comply and vaccinate. Our vaccine rates are high and infection numbers are low. I hope that continues. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPTXl3k-dAbwRy78TANFTS-hnF4lXytr4dPEq5r2CRp0jJAShZUHFT1H3XZ1y09Yg93_2WLMoVYZ4PjJJGwauz_WHtjx0rQwu2MpEqN5PKLPI9OBZHNxOb-10QJIcRYthd6wQ/s709/394C341A-D1D1-40FE-8CCF-EF4492842D5A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="709" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPTXl3k-dAbwRy78TANFTS-hnF4lXytr4dPEq5r2CRp0jJAShZUHFT1H3XZ1y09Yg93_2WLMoVYZ4PjJJGwauz_WHtjx0rQwu2MpEqN5PKLPI9OBZHNxOb-10QJIcRYthd6wQ/w412-h299/394C341A-D1D1-40FE-8CCF-EF4492842D5A.jpeg" width="412" /></a></div><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">One of the best things that has happened are outdoor, in-person get togethers. The photo is our art quilt group, High Fiber Diet, meeting together, for the first time in more than a year this week, in a lovely park. And another group I am part of met in another park the next day. Both were such joyous occasions! And, why, I wonder, have we never thought to have our summer meetings outdoors? A circle of camp chairs under a big, shady tree beats the heck out of a Sunday school room in a church or community center meeting room. We will do it again next month. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Wh-mRP8MNUdu2F0yWtcz2mXcz9WQog4jlwsl3I0y86M8lvIXVwpOSWEpu1aWyzJNhql-6zHcNjfM__ZjVH3wuvw2wrzll0E5niWecVRYfCbQj7B1n2nFigi8LE544-_WPYmb/s1610/B38E9E10-F293-4FF5-9D8B-959E30179E3C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1610" data-original-width="800" height="523" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Wh-mRP8MNUdu2F0yWtcz2mXcz9WQog4jlwsl3I0y86M8lvIXVwpOSWEpu1aWyzJNhql-6zHcNjfM__ZjVH3wuvw2wrzll0E5niWecVRYfCbQj7B1n2nFigi8LE544-_WPYmb/w260-h523/B38E9E10-F293-4FF5-9D8B-959E30179E3C.jpeg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> I finished my piece called “Tower of Babel” and submitted it for the next High Fiber Diet exhibit called “Can You Hear It?” It represents the Biblical story that explains the origin of the many languages of the world. The background uses a required fabric that resembles sound waves, to which I have added the word “hello” in many different languages. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">My big project this summer is putting together a book for Oregon SAQA (Studio Art Quilts Associates). 21 Quilt artists from the Oregon chapter of SAQA were chosen from proposals, to create a piece of quilt art, that they would document from inspiration to completion in words and photos for a book. I was asked to design and lay out the book. I am also one of the 21 artists. It is exciting and challenging! I’ve spent most of July, so far, creating the overall layout, communicating with the artists and the editor, reviewing and choosing the first sets of photos, then resizing and tweaking them to place in the document. I loved my work in publications and have sometimes missed it since retiring, so this is fun!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jD8gjnk7zg5nEgLDWMzvwO5E0zvzl9ubmUlKAJKqWH1JaLeLia1FuVkI8rG5WSyJmPNiuE9EMUJkuASN2A7xIeSd0xrtMz5ZipUEmvjSXucBcU0312WBHyc5L3qh-SmCm-dp/s1067/3C7CC259-D568-4277-8C91-8DE4EEA4DDB9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jD8gjnk7zg5nEgLDWMzvwO5E0zvzl9ubmUlKAJKqWH1JaLeLia1FuVkI8rG5WSyJmPNiuE9EMUJkuASN2A7xIeSd0xrtMz5ZipUEmvjSXucBcU0312WBHyc5L3qh-SmCm-dp/s320/3C7CC259-D568-4277-8C91-8DE4EEA4DDB9.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwNKYr2Z4QC6OiVfv1m4a2SwguNro0qPwO2jH8H-cRf0PTPD0gagbQ-xkVld1erZOVP-h4ftaKVTSm6zKimnuZngLYLHwO4v2-ng8Qb-QRlaNnWBrznSrtn3wJ8-S68kyFjq2/s2048/52523D9E-FC05-4496-97DF-95B066471371.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwNKYr2Z4QC6OiVfv1m4a2SwguNro0qPwO2jH8H-cRf0PTPD0gagbQ-xkVld1erZOVP-h4ftaKVTSm6zKimnuZngLYLHwO4v2-ng8Qb-QRlaNnWBrznSrtn3wJ8-S68kyFjq2/s320/52523D9E-FC05-4496-97DF-95B066471371.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The city of Portland has taken a beating this past year, both literally and figuratively, but it is recovering and still a great place. We haven’t left home much at all this past year, so trips into the city have been few, but we went in and across the river to one of Sofia’s soccer games a couple weeks ago and the city was beautiful and vibrant as ever. As we crossed the iconic Burnside Bridge I spotted this message on a building near the bridge, and it made me smile. I think we’re going to be OK!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtDg-vBu3yqobWnSAgTPa6Q5iXhRs60I7fCC3VsMhS7Qg_Z4x0W-UCC079hbljktEymb5TaYODDMw5apLizxaM0Ya4ubJCbd6AVkxY3kO3K634q29S7d_I-OPvhHkcqi1uVY2/s1794/3D70C655-F4C8-4FD4-BE3B-06D10EB6EB5D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1794" data-original-width="1751" height="515" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtDg-vBu3yqobWnSAgTPa6Q5iXhRs60I7fCC3VsMhS7Qg_Z4x0W-UCC079hbljktEymb5TaYODDMw5apLizxaM0Ya4ubJCbd6AVkxY3kO3K634q29S7d_I-OPvhHkcqi1uVY2/w502-h515/3D70C655-F4C8-4FD4-BE3B-06D10EB6EB5D.jpeg" width="502" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, to all my fellow wildcard, misfit and dabbler friends—I hope you are vaccinated and I hope you are having a great summer, or, at least, a better one than the last one…</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-85057638589551586272021-07-04T14:57:00.000-07:002021-07-04T14:57:00.531-07:00Sun printing tutorial<p> I mentioned in my last post that I have been doing a lot of sun printing, and from that, and posts of my prints online in various venues, I’m getting quite a few questions, so rather than try to respond individually to each question I decided to post a how-to here. Before I begin I want to mention that I took a class with Betty Busby a couple years ago and part of that class dealt with her techniques used in sun printing, which vastly improved and added to what I already knew, so credit to her for some of what I’m doing here. </p><p><b>DESIGNING AND MAKING A STENCIL</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw0K1AxMb31B4KPXQaQwzBL32NlTn9EYmhYVkZzkSVrL58adKZipeEKx-GRzvloHsi4ydEaG44LrsQbBLAdFYG0WRWKBj_rBg3suNAIMKuS7xv1Gu537nbioQ349J5GAbsml8/s1067/497E3AC1-F0F2-4EF9-9B53-E7237F63817B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw0K1AxMb31B4KPXQaQwzBL32NlTn9EYmhYVkZzkSVrL58adKZipeEKx-GRzvloHsi4ydEaG44LrsQbBLAdFYG0WRWKBj_rBg3suNAIMKuS7xv1Gu537nbioQ349J5GAbsml8/s320/497E3AC1-F0F2-4EF9-9B53-E7237F63817B.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;">This is the design I used. I created it on my iPad, using the Procreate app. I saved it as a jpeg to use to make a stencil using my Silhouette cutting machine. You can use commercial stencils or homemade stencils. You can cut stencils from paper, all kinds of vinyl or plastic sheets, Tyvek, Mylar—endless possibilities. You can cut them by hand using little scissors or an Xacto knife or a cutting machine. In addition to stencils, you can use all kinds of objects for sun printing, that lay flat and create interesting designs—leaves, ferns, string, coins, metal washers, rubber bands, paper clips, etc, etc. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPCCGxjdhVYQd6hKWkprSHqJ-K-HMD92hNcBDopN7kFHcBEFGMdUE0vbgL9yGQ2Lfod2p70Urk_PKlEL60Dz7MAfTbfMnIfPpOA27ZBmSyYRDcLBepbHXeqMWiRdHslhdH_GY/s1067/FD9D956B-1EB1-4AA1-A39B-6CFFC07F0AD0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPCCGxjdhVYQd6hKWkprSHqJ-K-HMD92hNcBDopN7kFHcBEFGMdUE0vbgL9yGQ2Lfod2p70Urk_PKlEL60Dz7MAfTbfMnIfPpOA27ZBmSyYRDcLBepbHXeqMWiRdHslhdH_GY/s320/FD9D956B-1EB1-4AA1-A39B-6CFFC07F0AD0.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeibIEi7LPDiQGWaju6sRiw-apXmAZMs2ZvlqbMhFy6stsBLMeLU53x8Vve1LwIdGDwzzBnd6xkoWH7RqeacC_OIr5X6OgD6vIM9cEF-JbY0ctUuL9Aupk5j-2xAmjJB25E6XP/s1067/859242BB-0BD8-42BB-9640-91D44086947D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeibIEi7LPDiQGWaju6sRiw-apXmAZMs2ZvlqbMhFy6stsBLMeLU53x8Vve1LwIdGDwzzBnd6xkoWH7RqeacC_OIr5X6OgD6vIM9cEF-JbY0ctUuL9Aupk5j-2xAmjJB25E6XP/s320/859242BB-0BD8-42BB-9640-91D44086947D.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I cut my stencil from window cling vinyl (one of Betty Busby’s brilliant ideas) which produces very crisp, detailed prints and cuts beautifully by cutting machine. Now I was ready to prepare the fabric. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>PREPARING THE FABRIC FOR PRINTING</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhYp5xTANoapVWktXZEgMNxkHdz4orMOzBVjnH-ZUr4spcgYqEhuUpm-QM7PRAimZ751lDbfqbsIBaT73l8UeDnbzmvVDngj5iYly9x8ovLptqgXd_1EDQadCh3vyLWGieggt/s1067/6E04344C-4F83-4729-B788-A18DEBAD8D26.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="445" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhYp5xTANoapVWktXZEgMNxkHdz4orMOzBVjnH-ZUr4spcgYqEhuUpm-QM7PRAimZ751lDbfqbsIBaT73l8UeDnbzmvVDngj5iYly9x8ovLptqgXd_1EDQadCh3vyLWGieggt/w334-h445/6E04344C-4F83-4729-B788-A18DEBAD8D26.jpeg" width="334" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are my supplies—A flat surface for painting on; fabric, cut to size; a spray bottle filled with water; a container for water; a large paintbrush and paint. The fabric I use is cotton, mostly quilting cotton, but you can use almost any kind of fabric for this. Sun prints on silk are beautiful. I have successfully sun printed directly on T-shirts and canvas bags, as well. Any kind of acrylic based paints will work, as long as they are, or can be thinned down to a fairly liquid state. Some produce quite thin, pastel color when thinned with water. My favorite brand to use is Jaquard Dye na Flow paints, which are very liquid and do not need to be thinned, and produce rich, intense color. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOUD2dAspArPdn8A1WTvDvpuqn6OhGCzE4pXNLevm65WFp4y3x9lqtu4v172X0SyEEY4TbegzC0VSpJtoNgG7P7cdTKHV6yNhv1bkgIemnavttUz1m5fYd3K90tOGLwEaKKs4/s1067/C1EF7939-78B4-4966-B21E-4D8B19A7E363.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1067" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOUD2dAspArPdn8A1WTvDvpuqn6OhGCzE4pXNLevm65WFp4y3x9lqtu4v172X0SyEEY4TbegzC0VSpJtoNgG7P7cdTKHV6yNhv1bkgIemnavttUz1m5fYd3K90tOGLwEaKKs4/w471-h353/C1EF7939-78B4-4966-B21E-4D8B19A7E363.jpeg" width="471" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I spread the fabric on my painting surface, spray with water , then paint the entire surface, working quickly so it remains quite wet. I like using a basic color then mottling in some variations, but keeping it fairly consistent in value. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>PRINTING</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg71utxCSz-HObWRV9Rex2P700978s3tkpbyn02KnvhAisG2qGflPTlneveJQPkhnVa7St11dpgxMsX3LUtXZ8FPqkvJYBN34DMnjj2PIoZ4SAoeBPueF_241ThwuciJNW_Dmqt/s1067/E2F19B4A-C46E-48F8-A10D-7CD04E0B8CB2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg71utxCSz-HObWRV9Rex2P700978s3tkpbyn02KnvhAisG2qGflPTlneveJQPkhnVa7St11dpgxMsX3LUtXZ8FPqkvJYBN34DMnjj2PIoZ4SAoeBPueF_241ThwuciJNW_Dmqt/w325-h414/E2F19B4A-C46E-48F8-A10D-7CD04E0B8CB2.jpeg" width="325" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I carefully layered the stencil on top of the wet paint, smoothing it out to get it laying as flat as possible, in close contact with the wet fabric. A big, dry paintbrush is helpful in getting it smooth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVsYSWnb5TdypoHkfD8hZNyzFpBFdxPfkcboSLlHB2VYcic6MbVPSrUcPbeZkVo4nylG3jh9scPpC3KMp4wHGFuIu7E7KWJgI4u-4q5Ogy4fg961jcNxr_VhCyBmc29DvpOZS/s1067/BDEAC399-8144-48A0-9CD6-B5DEABE1E22C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="489" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVsYSWnb5TdypoHkfD8hZNyzFpBFdxPfkcboSLlHB2VYcic6MbVPSrUcPbeZkVo4nylG3jh9scPpC3KMp4wHGFuIu7E7KWJgI4u-4q5Ogy4fg961jcNxr_VhCyBmc29DvpOZS/w367-h489/BDEAC399-8144-48A0-9CD6-B5DEABE1E22C.jpeg" width="367" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then I just let it sit in the sun until it was dry. The amount of light is really not what creates the design, so it is actually possible to do this in any kind of weather, but direct sun that dries the fabric quickly produces, in my experience, the clearest, crispest prints. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwm32IQv6NyYrsaYuu6i-TpoGPUnyDh5z1xAvC4M0YROUnO-pCpsVhCdP9gUhGB__-zazhQtqo58CrSbrrTnMwGu6RNXMzIErxV-9VODWQvqF_EuosuCnEu6if24fMWE3HlXYF/s1067/CD695C1D-0231-461A-A61E-FB8A020419C0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwm32IQv6NyYrsaYuu6i-TpoGPUnyDh5z1xAvC4M0YROUnO-pCpsVhCdP9gUhGB__-zazhQtqo58CrSbrrTnMwGu6RNXMzIErxV-9VODWQvqF_EuosuCnEu6if24fMWE3HlXYF/w366-h488/CD695C1D-0231-461A-A61E-FB8A020419C0.jpeg" width="366" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once it felt dry, I carefully peeled back the stencil to reveal the finished print. That’s all there is to it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK6KcO8k4SPJa2EYbbP88X9FeGjGA0FVLr56FTyBgwvVMq-bES4AZIu4Ze2zL6mwoDNu-D6UZrYZsVySmMIOAWftenI8e6hazgkuFK6KI3nJ8wwnft8ktghS99RhLXEXXt8gS/s1067/3AD0C619-6028-452E-9E6F-B179C0957EB3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimK6KcO8k4SPJa2EYbbP88X9FeGjGA0FVLr56FTyBgwvVMq-bES4AZIu4Ze2zL6mwoDNu-D6UZrYZsVySmMIOAWftenI8e6hazgkuFK6KI3nJ8wwnft8ktghS99RhLXEXXt8gS/w374-h498/3AD0C619-6028-452E-9E6F-B179C0957EB3.jpeg" width="374" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I like to iron the piece to be sure the paint is set, then the fabric is ready to use. The stencil can be used over and over for lots of prints in different colors. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I find this technique so satisfying! It is so very simple—no chemicals or special lights, basic, inexpensive supplies. And the resulting fabrics are uniquely yours. I hope you will try it and show me what you’ve done!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-24981291748242649232021-07-02T17:58:00.001-07:002021-07-02T22:04:36.918-07:00Summer Ode to Joy…<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0uINqicm-cSpSE0Ehb_1CV1sffoC3xHgefomPcCyZ0VRNyiAqNx2plOVhB5VoI0Tfgy8d1LLYweMKi-VZh0NI5dbmuA366EEP7N2wFACIYqCsGmPwZsX92FR3kEYgsCr0cVS/s1067/C364F81C-A6BB-447E-BA38-F6DCF02A9121.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0uINqicm-cSpSE0Ehb_1CV1sffoC3xHgefomPcCyZ0VRNyiAqNx2plOVhB5VoI0Tfgy8d1LLYweMKi-VZh0NI5dbmuA366EEP7N2wFACIYqCsGmPwZsX92FR3kEYgsCr0cVS/s320/C364F81C-A6BB-447E-BA38-F6DCF02A9121.jpeg" /></a></div><p><br /></p>July arrived yesterday. Earlier this week we were sweating out (literally) the hottest temperatures we’ve ever experienced here, but July arrived yesterday bearing a cool breeze and an invitation to walk through the garden in comfort. This morning is lovely again and I sat with my coffee to catch up with the world by way of my iPad and clicked on a Facebook “memory” from a year ago. It was a music video I watched over and over last summer, and I realized I had tears in my eyes. It took me right back to 12 months ago and the surreality of the horror that was rapidly overtaking us. In the spring we knew we were in a pandemic and we’d have to hunker down for a few weeks—at worst, a couple months—and get past it. By July we knew it was bigger than anyone imagined and people were sickening and dying by the thousands. We were beginning to understand how truly horrifying it really was and I desperately craved moments of grace and beauty. So, for me, I followed the guidelines and then I distracted myself. I made art, I watched Netflix, I read, I listened to music and I watched that lovely video over and over, and through it all I kept reassuring myself that it would all be OK eventually. So summer rolls around again and here we are, getting much closer to being OK. We can exhale and find more joy today. <p></p><p>Last summer I spent long days in my studio and one of my joys was cutting stencils and making sun printed fabric to use in my artwork. For a couple weeks I printed stripes in rich colors. They were like capturing sunshine in cloth. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQtblC7e9_jjEuohzd6X9vLv2t8UFY2A9VGbTI9BSurhmD_SPA9uPoCbmhj9Eksn6zbsuC_9w4qL2NF-68JqENmKHE5iUiblwJC0KLB_oJSYXdi5kwjBZ3Zl2Ew71Vo7TZlXe/s1067/89462069-E319-4332-83B4-E4FE1ABCFAD2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQtblC7e9_jjEuohzd6X9vLv2t8UFY2A9VGbTI9BSurhmD_SPA9uPoCbmhj9Eksn6zbsuC_9w4qL2NF-68JqENmKHE5iUiblwJC0KLB_oJSYXdi5kwjBZ3Zl2Ew71Vo7TZlXe/w273-h364/89462069-E319-4332-83B4-E4FE1ABCFAD2.jpeg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When the sun finally came back this spring I started thinking about getting out my paints and stencils for more sun prints. The past month has been pretty great. Here’s what I’ve done so far.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpPRdDk2wV2LnyvPcYcuoLJiQ3i8OxoPH9EE32LwBQs2TTXCrPHKBX9Chdh-gSHnPpOK0VMdf1qL1sDZ8btO3Y1Oy0vkkfq1g3KghcVhyphenhyphenulK2wAtP9b_ZhqS40LiJZqdmPpmP/s1067/F2178201-B6DD-44F0-B727-E6DD3B8CBD06.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIpPRdDk2wV2LnyvPcYcuoLJiQ3i8OxoPH9EE32LwBQs2TTXCrPHKBX9Chdh-gSHnPpOK0VMdf1qL1sDZ8btO3Y1Oy0vkkfq1g3KghcVhyphenhyphenulK2wAtP9b_ZhqS40LiJZqdmPpmP/w295-h393/F2178201-B6DD-44F0-B727-E6DD3B8CBD06.jpeg" width="295" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I’m finishing up a piece for our next High Fiber Diet exhibit “Can You Hear It?” It is about the story of the Tower of Babel, and how the people of the world came to speak many languages. Here’s a sneak peek. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEvjv7-6VQYrfjMvKA2CwotrOCOBA10icZqoKjXTYDQNfuws9DQoRQW28aM4ZdmBSAxCt_ktqvywD4gGDAgFvwvocknMSd2NbuaznrTzvffy0bz9MtFzfHA5A6zsL67-oVi1x/s2048/3E073AB2-330C-4FA4-A3BF-21B4C988F1AD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPEvjv7-6VQYrfjMvKA2CwotrOCOBA10icZqoKjXTYDQNfuws9DQoRQW28aM4ZdmBSAxCt_ktqvywD4gGDAgFvwvocknMSd2NbuaznrTzvffy0bz9MtFzfHA5A6zsL67-oVi1x/w274-h365/3E073AB2-330C-4FA4-A3BF-21B4C988F1AD.jpeg" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My big project for this summer is designing and preparing a book for our Oregon region of SAQA. It will be a book following 21 selected artists in our region as they each plan, design and produce an art quilt, showing their work in photographs and writing about their process. It’s a very exciting project! I am also one of the 21 artists, so I am also working on my piece at the same time. I’ve barely started. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgQvq5PxpWCVb3lswYcUrGk_s7vSkrx2nbaTvnfpmnRTEGIoJdPGvZeV4aeSN6mLWP8LDxJy4iVBXufABQgXJB09tTe4D6SsNagtHy33oeAzavD7BnPt46jDmByF5Xrz3CAnU/s1067/60FB20EB-36C5-48DC-998C-07A0E8A35E26.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgQvq5PxpWCVb3lswYcUrGk_s7vSkrx2nbaTvnfpmnRTEGIoJdPGvZeV4aeSN6mLWP8LDxJy4iVBXufABQgXJB09tTe4D6SsNagtHy33oeAzavD7BnPt46jDmByF5Xrz3CAnU/s320/60FB20EB-36C5-48DC-998C-07A0E8A35E26.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Never has summer felt more welcome than this one, despite its red hot start. Life is returning and though there are still challenges I feel like joy is more accessible. And that video? Still beautiful…</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://youtu.be/eiDiKwbGfIY">https://youtu.be/eiDiKwbGfIY</a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-79096473320492358932021-05-26T12:53:00.000-07:002021-05-26T12:53:09.890-07:00The times we live in<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-tHDSMq_jUJ6tudAy2bhrHZGxAF5jsz1sgBHApGcpKBSA1unOlLBNkrD7tL8hQT2c8NjXSpXzYYjzqD-RCNC228_AlSl40qep1SVBehZNnLvmd1Y9Z1koBggI7kjX82XhZZX/s1080/615C38F3-1926-41F3-A2C3-2C6BEA91BDD6.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="1080" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-tHDSMq_jUJ6tudAy2bhrHZGxAF5jsz1sgBHApGcpKBSA1unOlLBNkrD7tL8hQT2c8NjXSpXzYYjzqD-RCNC228_AlSl40qep1SVBehZNnLvmd1Y9Z1koBggI7kjX82XhZZX/w347-h234/615C38F3-1926-41F3-A2C3-2C6BEA91BDD6.jpeg" width="347" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">We got our vaccines awhile ago and I felt like crying with gratitude with the first one. We are looking forward to being with friends, traveling and mostly just knowing that the bad dream that was 2020 is ending and everyone can, literally, breathe easier. Maybe. I thought <i>everyone</i> was eagerly awaiting the vaccine, but now that it’s here, that doesn’t seem to be universally true. It surprises me, but I guess it shouldn’t. I got into a little dispute with a family member a few days ago and it still has me shaking my head. “We need to respect all opinions about the vaccine,” she said, clearly in defense of her own decision not to be vaccinated. I agreed that I respect her <i>right</i> to an opinion, but I feel no obligation to respect that opinion, if it seems uninformed and selfish. I think the word “selfish” got to her. She unfriended me. I guess she didn’t respect <i>my</i> opinion. Oh well. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I know I’m opinionated and maybe have too much to say sometimes, but, as Albert Einstein said, “Silence is complicity.” In my opinion, now is not a good time to be complicit, in this case, to lending support to the enemy (the virus) by agreeing that it’s fine to assist it in flourishing and evolving in new and even more dangerous ways and assuring that this AWFUL, STUPID, HORRIBLE, DEADLY PANDEMIC NEVER ENDS! And that is how I feel about that! OK, glad I got that off my chest. Sorry if I alarmed you. </p><p style="text-align: left;">So we, and all but the youngest in our immediate family, are vaccinated and feeling a degree of true freedom. Summer seems like a shiny prize waiting just over the horizon, after a year spent indoors. Yesterday I scouted outdoor locations for a July meeting of our local art quilt group after more than a year of Zooming. I am envisioning all of us, in lawn chairs, visiting and sharing our current projects in some lovely spot. Maybe this one...?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBcV1rcQhUNUlvqPmk3z-ywOmuDQ_bMo9luEvG2iafBqKEiTauty4UAPVb30cO0MKee5jgdiIAnMHqpYD8wDmIqIZVhsUjDBtWG3aDoHHuocsipEaJntO95gK7rvnfBlgX6Uf/s1067/A76286E9-8FB0-4852-BECB-4315D7F72926.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBcV1rcQhUNUlvqPmk3z-ywOmuDQ_bMo9luEvG2iafBqKEiTauty4UAPVb30cO0MKee5jgdiIAnMHqpYD8wDmIqIZVhsUjDBtWG3aDoHHuocsipEaJntO95gK7rvnfBlgX6Uf/s320/A76286E9-8FB0-4852-BECB-4315D7F72926.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">I mentioned, awhile back, how much I enjoyed the presentation by Austin Kleon that was part of our SAQA conference so I ordered his book. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgBoGfxsRCidgwa59TmqwkcVHWWuEUL-F7IIMLFT_w9DSa3KbDONfLsao3_buxFxGPAsKJcGo2YNcWcVH8fL49nP_IskAqeTswEBtbrV5gsvdJ9IuygiNbAW4h1J1EHNZ1TZD/s800/E9EC919A-2D91-4E55-9BFA-E0E73CD9FBD3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgBoGfxsRCidgwa59TmqwkcVHWWuEUL-F7IIMLFT_w9DSa3KbDONfLsao3_buxFxGPAsKJcGo2YNcWcVH8fL49nP_IskAqeTswEBtbrV5gsvdJ9IuygiNbAW4h1J1EHNZ1TZD/s320/E9EC919A-2D91-4E55-9BFA-E0E73CD9FBD3.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;">It is a small book, quick to read and filled with the kind of things we all should know, but maybe don’t, or maybe need to be reminded of. I loved it, then I laughed out loud when I got to this page, near the end.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8pKnONPJs5INYg3Vi4qfcXqEKio5uqdg02T6pD4x-gm0-sATcsTQFZLXpC6xIm-DpxwPSjmxOpr-M_9GweGxVGc6_BakAGYR1sr463ib6KE73XzdbOPQY6kzV93iWcCx7biq/s1066/8D7A8F75-6636-41CA-840B-38F45D029229.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8pKnONPJs5INYg3Vi4qfcXqEKio5uqdg02T6pD4x-gm0-sATcsTQFZLXpC6xIm-DpxwPSjmxOpr-M_9GweGxVGc6_BakAGYR1sr463ib6KE73XzdbOPQY6kzV93iWcCx7biq/s320/8D7A8F75-6636-41CA-840B-38F45D029229.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;">Are you talking to me? </p><p style="text-align: left;">OK, then. I’m leaving the internet and going to the studio...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-13750499301914658332021-05-10T16:09:00.001-07:002021-05-10T16:09:44.445-07:00Why am I doing this?<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbEu0qR4HsesMRG7QwNivOrNX_x8rPb_jzDYXWEYJzcTrGqw2YLlGGZjld9FJ23KBo_Cq0IKQH7xvPZJH5LieDzSpXoj4_62tR5WX7PnC0oVwN7mxzFr4qV9r9wwBui36Dbdc/s1067/8441FB25-AB6C-4918-A251-9FBCDA086172.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbEu0qR4HsesMRG7QwNivOrNX_x8rPb_jzDYXWEYJzcTrGqw2YLlGGZjld9FJ23KBo_Cq0IKQH7xvPZJH5LieDzSpXoj4_62tR5WX7PnC0oVwN7mxzFr4qV9r9wwBui36Dbdc/w312-h416/8441FB25-AB6C-4918-A251-9FBCDA086172.jpeg" width="312" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>This is the door to my studio, which has truly been my refuge during the pandemic. I have spent a lot of time out here this past year and I’ve done a lot of work and I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I’ve asked myself, several times “why am I doing this?” Oddly, I think that’s a question most us don’t ask frequently enough and it’s an important question. As I get older the answer changes. Honestly, I like to work. I see friends, who like me, retired from full time, paid jobs years ago and who spend their days puttering around their houses and gardens, reading, occasionally going out to play cards or visit friends. They seem content to do that, and good for them, but that’s not for me. I want to keep working and so the studio continues to call to me. But lately I’m feeling the need to simplify my studio time. I’m suddenly wondering why I’m juggling so many projects at once. It’s become exhausting. <i>Why am I doing that?</i></p><p>Right now I am a part of the Cloth in Common group. We produce a quilt, made to a theme, every two months on a set schedule. So that’s a repeating deadline. I belong to High Fiber Diet, a local group that meets monthly and puts together a themed exhibit once a year. I also show work at a local gallery and need to continue to produce work for that. And now I have been selected to produce a piece for a regional SAQA book and exhibit, and I am doing the design and layout of the book. Suddenly it’s more than enough.<i> Why am I doing that?</i> Maybe it’s an age issue, but I just don’t multi-task with the ease that I once did.</p><p>Behind that orange door today you will find my Cloth in Common piece under construction on my work table,</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1o3xF6XsHVmn1jAQE_H112ZBF3PcGV_1zzYzMKwTem2ewvVVLq91arietfZpFPjfUBegT-YISctS7oXoB-hyEgcAtMMonf_hNNrYdyAfkL6XY71650E_NyOJqhkMEMtgg3OTc/s1067/3FA964E3-1EDD-4FBC-AB2E-85DF78E79A8C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1o3xF6XsHVmn1jAQE_H112ZBF3PcGV_1zzYzMKwTem2ewvVVLq91arietfZpFPjfUBegT-YISctS7oXoB-hyEgcAtMMonf_hNNrYdyAfkL6XY71650E_NyOJqhkMEMtgg3OTc/s320/3FA964E3-1EDD-4FBC-AB2E-85DF78E79A8C.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>And my High Fiber Diet piece at my sewing machine. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iKQuVzSv0pFUTBvY1M0oAqhsNkl2qtfqL4yOgFfOsP5KYOq8vVP6bb3von_WJBst48QfpwhpVqsQQk_AChRiIzJu69HH18QV__1c9E1stnRvkEtalRDm8dKRecihzJQK120s/s2048/7D01A945-8C79-4CC0-84AB-E43A147AA7FA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1864" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iKQuVzSv0pFUTBvY1M0oAqhsNkl2qtfqL4yOgFfOsP5KYOq8vVP6bb3von_WJBst48QfpwhpVqsQQk_AChRiIzJu69HH18QV__1c9E1stnRvkEtalRDm8dKRecihzJQK120s/w235-h259/7D01A945-8C79-4CC0-84AB-E43A147AA7FA.jpeg" width="235" /></a></div><br /><p>And I would be going back and forth, fretting about my progress and deadline for each. </p><p>So, why <i>am</i> I doing all this? Well, I do just love making art—but less and less on a deadline, and less and less to a prescribed theme and size. I do love sharing my work, so I appreciate the opportunity to see it exhibited and published, but I don’t need the exposure. I’m not trying to sell my skills as a teacher or lecturer. I’m not writing a book and I’m not depending on sales to feed myself. I just love the making. So after asking myself that question I’ve decided that after this month’s reveal for <a href="https://clothincommon.com/" target="_blank">Cloth in Common,</a> which is the final one of the current “round,” that I will be leaving that group. It has been a great couple of years with a group of wonderful people, who have become friends I will continue to stay in contact with, but, from the beginning, it was stressful to keep up and I haven’t always done my best work in that context. I think that will relieve some of the stress I’ve been feeling and give me space to enjoy the other work I am doing, since Cloth in Common was so ever present as a looming deadline. It is with gratitude and affection, along with a sense of relief, that I made this decision. </p><p>I’ll keep asking myself why I’m doing this thing that I don’t <i>need</i> to do. And since, at this stage of my life I have the luxury of not needing, I will continue to do what I <i>want</i> to do and what makes me happy. Maybe this is a gift of the pandemic. </p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-23088074915585747792021-05-02T14:36:00.000-07:002021-05-02T14:36:51.059-07:00Digital drawing<p> I started drawing as a child and I have always thought of drawing as something fundamental to making art. Some people make drawings as their primary artwork and the beauty of their drawings is awe-inspiring. For me I mostly draw as a way of thinking and envisioning something. It’s a tool and a means toward another end. I remember my dad, who was a mechanical engineer, always had a mechanical pencil in his pocket and any time he was describing or explaining how something worked, he’d grab a notepad, or a scrap of paper and he’d draw a little picture of it. I think I learned from him, to do that. And I wish I had thought to keep some of those little drawings of his. They were great. </p><p>So I draw. Always have. Pen or pencil to paper, mostly. Then, twenty something, or so, years ago I learned about drawing with a mouse on the computer using pixels or vectors and what a revelation! I still draw on paper, but I am also in love with digital drawing. It is so useful and so flexible! For awhile I was drawing very precise and detailed vector drawings, using Adobe Illustrator, and enlarging and printing actual size patterns to work from in making my art quilts. Now I take a more casual approach. I make sloppy drawings on my iPad, getting the basic composition, colors and proportions worked out on the small screen, where I can easily move things around, erase and redo elements, try out different colors and crop to a pleasing aspect. Then I enlarge it by hand, introducing more of my style and personal elements into the final work. This is hard to explain, but working, by hand, at the actual size makes me consider line and detail more thoughtfully. An example: here’s my digital sketch, working from my own photos, of the Basilica of Quito. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUbt156mFjxaEWVr54u8-IxnRa6husLLv7IMe7L0fOQj-BdVxNTwS5cKveSh4kjivfZWCIJqY7qVa1XoXTcWBiNsICC7jFqpsHxhViD0tCK0bEi9pJrFgODAYAc5EYGpa9pie/s1067/33827E6F-0CD8-4061-A750-2D1313EB312F.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQUbt156mFjxaEWVr54u8-IxnRa6husLLv7IMe7L0fOQj-BdVxNTwS5cKveSh4kjivfZWCIJqY7qVa1XoXTcWBiNsICC7jFqpsHxhViD0tCK0bEi9pJrFgODAYAc5EYGpa9pie/s320/33827E6F-0CD8-4061-A750-2D1313EB312F.png" /></a></div><br /><p>Here’s the finished quilt</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuujhq7mmLuNZOFae-OvF4DAsIZ-iOr7snlXTQAvclOetegpZwJ9vXF1xMw4WT62pxPqxLJQc6JUo0lt8TEhUIbqPajkI0w_G9fylDxMFO4Gli_iIKcz-WIlH7qYjStAhNY9Z/s2048/13CECFDF-A86F-4EEE-9679-BF4DCCCCA6A7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1404" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuujhq7mmLuNZOFae-OvF4DAsIZ-iOr7snlXTQAvclOetegpZwJ9vXF1xMw4WT62pxPqxLJQc6JUo0lt8TEhUIbqPajkI0w_G9fylDxMFO4Gli_iIKcz-WIlH7qYjStAhNY9Z/s320/13CECFDF-A86F-4EEE-9679-BF4DCCCCA6A7.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>Nowadays I no longer use a mouse with my computer. I use an Apple Pencil with my iPad. There are a lots of good drawing apps available. I’ve used Sketch Club, a very good, inexpensive drawing app for a long time. Currently I’m really liking Procreate, more expensive, but more features. If I have an idea for something I can make a quick sketch, save it and come back to it later to further develop, or sometimes not. Here’s one that I saved a while back. I think it has possibilities. I might get back to it again and I’ll know where to find it, unlike those little scraps of paper I used to sketch ideas on and lose...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvnLf50Y_zq0ouw1lOCesr3DvP_3NnnY_Rn7NzV0ooxcPD_wXmmMmcfB59bC_b6BHzhuHJRtqYyPa83BKjU_NdtH5koscowNxF5GyzwfhIPRoSRHnsN-B_U2Ilp9gmqxyciQ3/s770/1E849464-E9E1-478C-BC28-767AF7C2B6B4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvnLf50Y_zq0ouw1lOCesr3DvP_3NnnY_Rn7NzV0ooxcPD_wXmmMmcfB59bC_b6BHzhuHJRtqYyPa83BKjU_NdtH5koscowNxF5GyzwfhIPRoSRHnsN-B_U2Ilp9gmqxyciQ3/s320/1E849464-E9E1-478C-BC28-767AF7C2B6B4.jpeg" /></a></div>I found a whole new use for digital drawing when I bought a Silhouette cutting machine to use for my art quilts. I can make a digital drawing of the thing I want to cut, refine it digitally and then transfer it to the cutting software, scale it to the exact size I want and cut an exact replica of my drawing, retaining the variations in line and distinctive marks of my hand drawing. I cut fabric, mostly painted, non woven fabrics, that I can incorporate into the stitched work. <br /><p>Over the years I’ve drawn, on paper, many pinecones—they are one of my favorite subjects. The first image is one of my pen and ink drawings from my sketchbook, then my digital interpretation of the drawing and finally the pinecone cut from fabric and sewn to a little banner I hung outside my studio. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9_zU8Ret4udvrRn83UGAmrHHnl4M2zriEH7ar8tYfIreDXKQUDtilUGKLId89MRmhsiAWXJcyULXCKaNk59BWCqBHvPIUJ-nVZcPbNVPyYr2YWN1CoQNZ0zshWr9lF4CRVAT/s1067/FE7F3B85-AC99-436A-9335-310BAAB63584.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9_zU8Ret4udvrRn83UGAmrHHnl4M2zriEH7ar8tYfIreDXKQUDtilUGKLId89MRmhsiAWXJcyULXCKaNk59BWCqBHvPIUJ-nVZcPbNVPyYr2YWN1CoQNZ0zshWr9lF4CRVAT/s320/FE7F3B85-AC99-436A-9335-310BAAB63584.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5syzAt7zTgmuj8IlkH812NuFthbWIaYBN10K6w26ve9U6Y3u0Gt5MSvYsoi6Vlk-jTwI1BxFYQU3hP06yqpuIsWonjSWbPjmgqIYpMPFbrY53QQZ1moWtsAfk1a7UWqFRCp8v/s1024/0EB1610B-6D07-4792-9352-6E0D066A0123.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5syzAt7zTgmuj8IlkH812NuFthbWIaYBN10K6w26ve9U6Y3u0Gt5MSvYsoi6Vlk-jTwI1BxFYQU3hP06yqpuIsWonjSWbPjmgqIYpMPFbrY53QQZ1moWtsAfk1a7UWqFRCp8v/s320/0EB1610B-6D07-4792-9352-6E0D066A0123.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MurK1oHSvnnXnyVbpkf7yHntkyrFT-NFZ-zj6myx3AS9imJvxGFpX4ZJz3iIKZ2CURA5VpE5S76-Qv408GVGYv6T0LWeyZVuCOOd9bGBvOawpo_uEu3rD_9ClZi6pWPujUy3/s2048/8A7E0AC4-13CF-4F50-B324-4944821A3C7C.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MurK1oHSvnnXnyVbpkf7yHntkyrFT-NFZ-zj6myx3AS9imJvxGFpX4ZJz3iIKZ2CURA5VpE5S76-Qv408GVGYv6T0LWeyZVuCOOd9bGBvOawpo_uEu3rD_9ClZi6pWPujUy3/s320/8A7E0AC4-13CF-4F50-B324-4944821A3C7C.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>I am drawing more than ever, mostly on my iPad. I think about my dad, who loved computers and all technology and I know he would have loved all this. Here are some more examples of how I’m using my drawing tools these days. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHXBKl9ygM1aOscsZRd0QTAYhVBHnofGQixUBLxMLce46i_7Kas5ZD3zBExU9OZjtwWRBEau3JeshuFHQ-1HQQfcnxEQNjzNTnYs4z0E-f_vEQfBAbxs5giD0klDezKG5xb3w/s1067/AB910E3A-D7A7-427B-9F91-1883A17AE94C.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHXBKl9ygM1aOscsZRd0QTAYhVBHnofGQixUBLxMLce46i_7Kas5ZD3zBExU9OZjtwWRBEau3JeshuFHQ-1HQQfcnxEQNjzNTnYs4z0E-f_vEQfBAbxs5giD0klDezKG5xb3w/s320/AB910E3A-D7A7-427B-9F91-1883A17AE94C.png" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4rQtjG7-qyzplrAYARcgwWECBAHx33ZZwJ8QqCanG-W9MXfc21d3JZm9jXq1bu8-R407I_xgF7TbL0abAGaWYams4eXzcUH4RABwAFIzLbP-CArdR3Ihl_phPFV-EVwRLJ2o/s929/C5C3C7AE-3DB5-4ED2-A412-84235623A58F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="929" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4rQtjG7-qyzplrAYARcgwWECBAHx33ZZwJ8QqCanG-W9MXfc21d3JZm9jXq1bu8-R407I_xgF7TbL0abAGaWYams4eXzcUH4RABwAFIzLbP-CArdR3Ihl_phPFV-EVwRLJ2o/s320/C5C3C7AE-3DB5-4ED2-A412-84235623A58F.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTe1GpYjZImefrjY3n9nhbvY0Gtb0po5CX4zY1I5chRiJwkXQyAcLzC2I0MlqRwlMBiStJ3d6CbH-Xyp6cEsSXItrJVN4TQHD0f2VWDDUK3DkD3YmQnI3TS1WvOqbjASBrOQeu/s1248/74F551C4-51AE-41BF-B2DA-F9E0428AD499.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1098" data-original-width="1248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTe1GpYjZImefrjY3n9nhbvY0Gtb0po5CX4zY1I5chRiJwkXQyAcLzC2I0MlqRwlMBiStJ3d6CbH-Xyp6cEsSXItrJVN4TQHD0f2VWDDUK3DkD3YmQnI3TS1WvOqbjASBrOQeu/s320/74F551C4-51AE-41BF-B2DA-F9E0428AD499.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHbX6IxmomL2pa_QMX6AW4BcLaZclbr2rTfv0S-HwaN4BvcyOAF0ESt-pDaOTCBTSzuDtmLTHTHecd2-2CgJl37SAFSwSPsEQb-M4sIf5QjC_gpyxUiENrFxcfRuo0PsmWwsC/s1067/79D43A23-5E17-4131-B765-CE02857D3022.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHbX6IxmomL2pa_QMX6AW4BcLaZclbr2rTfv0S-HwaN4BvcyOAF0ESt-pDaOTCBTSzuDtmLTHTHecd2-2CgJl37SAFSwSPsEQb-M4sIf5QjC_gpyxUiENrFxcfRuo0PsmWwsC/s320/79D43A23-5E17-4131-B765-CE02857D3022.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>A new sketch, waiting for further inspiration....<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXvav8V8I_k0_QxZnRhqce5j2rWnke1C4wtx-RMu7yFw4-7g0fny7ZZphnyWCyyZtaMjeut9Ayq5Dh-O1okt33gdJanbEcWzpofRlKUUEHfnFFq_l4AJ3opXgwuK2CKaclXEl/s796/C52004BD-EF21-448B-992C-F79E1B00E62B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="796" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXvav8V8I_k0_QxZnRhqce5j2rWnke1C4wtx-RMu7yFw4-7g0fny7ZZphnyWCyyZtaMjeut9Ayq5Dh-O1okt33gdJanbEcWzpofRlKUUEHfnFFq_l4AJ3opXgwuK2CKaclXEl/s320/C52004BD-EF21-448B-992C-F79E1B00E62B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-72980064085516291252021-04-28T15:30:00.000-07:002021-04-28T15:30:04.855-07:00I am not a hoarder<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDY85brm5NnkdOnQftTxcuagUWs25DSVfSWLfE5I-jEubDsGFr5gYrxU1aj5wdaEZeqyyDKKF1NwU1a9ErwV6OrAqhSRauaqp5f9R1DXvQORfE1SphUlcZ3TsGohj_1XTK1dp6/s2048/74A4EADF-25F8-4583-A5BA-9683D23A8F83.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDY85brm5NnkdOnQftTxcuagUWs25DSVfSWLfE5I-jEubDsGFr5gYrxU1aj5wdaEZeqyyDKKF1NwU1a9ErwV6OrAqhSRauaqp5f9R1DXvQORfE1SphUlcZ3TsGohj_1XTK1dp6/s320/74A4EADF-25F8-4583-A5BA-9683D23A8F83.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p>One thing leads to another. I’m sure you know this. Last week our furnace died. It was good news and bad news. I’ve been secretly wishing for this for years. The bad news, of course, is that new furnaces do not come cheap and replacing one is kind of a big deal in terms of workmen in the house, trucks in the driveway, doors off hinges, ladders into the attic, moving all the stuff nestled in around the old furnace in the storage/furnace closet and general disruption of the peace for most of a day. But now it is done and now we have AIR CONDITIONING as well as heat. The AC is what I’ve really been wishing for, when I was wishing for the old furnace’s demise. And now, for the first time in my life, I live in a house with central AC. <p></p><p>So today I started organizing and putting back all the stuff that had shared the closet with the furnace. It is where we keep mops and brooms and garbage bags and lightbulbs and rags and, sadly, stuff that doesn’t go anywhere else. That last category becomes problematic and I found some forgotten treasures—two brand new timers for lights, new sponge mop heads... I also threw away a garbage can full of stuff. And I sorted through my huge stash of paper plates, plastic cups and cutlery and paper napkins. You know, how you buy that stuff for a party or cookout and then stash what you didn’t use—over and over and over....? It adds up. So that’s what is in those bags, above. I just posted those, to give away, on my Facebook “Buy Nothing” group. </p><p>Do you know about “Buy Nothing”? I discovered it a couple years ago and I love it. Do you have something usable to get rid of? Don’t give it to Goodwill, who are terrible people who exploit their underpaid disabled workers and pay themselves huge salaries-—don’t get me started— instead, give your good stuff directly to a neighbor who needs it—no strings attached. Besides getting it out of your house you can feel good about where it’s going. In this year of pandemic, layoffs, illness and all of it, you wouldn’t believe how many people are in need. I read the sad stories in the “Buy Nothing” posts and I see the responses of empathy and generosity and simple neighborliness. So far I have given away a lot of stuff and received little, except for a renewed appreciation for how good and kind people can be. That’s actually a lot. ❤️</p><p>I cleaned out my closet awhile back, then I realized I was about to give away two good cotton, striped shirts. I need that fabric! No need to go overboard on this purging business...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2U6bsw4dk-NobXmlWg53Yxs-9YcDX-xgz3JgjxMZS8nXB2bcuvgqTN9LdvxztpcJrY9U0RAy9qKwndPPrTyRSJ7c1_GCmLvYNlpJhORbe3Lkow6fGL2KTQ15K1_UxDYvnCCfP/s2048/4BDF467B-C43F-4BC9-94DB-1A792B3CEBFA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2U6bsw4dk-NobXmlWg53Yxs-9YcDX-xgz3JgjxMZS8nXB2bcuvgqTN9LdvxztpcJrY9U0RAy9qKwndPPrTyRSJ7c1_GCmLvYNlpJhORbe3Lkow6fGL2KTQ15K1_UxDYvnCCfP/s320/4BDF467B-C43F-4BC9-94DB-1A792B3CEBFA.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>Hey! Somebody’s interested in my paper plates.....</p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-8299893179903234462021-04-26T13:59:00.003-07:002021-04-26T15:24:32.258-07:00Maybe I’m Back<p> This last week was the SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates) online Conference. It was good in just so many ways that I’d have a hard time explaining, except to say everybody needs to find their people and hang out with them for a week, even if it’s online. So very good for the soul. One of the best things among many good things was the keynote talk by artist/author<a href="https://austinkleon.com/2021/04/08/a-quilt-made-of-days/"> Austin Kleon</a>, who talked about his artwork and its quilt connection and about making art and about writing—all in such an upbeat, inspiring way that I wanted more. So this morning I went searching for his website and his blog and I was not disappointed. He’s been blogging about as long as I have, but he didn’t peter out like I did. He says:</p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><blockquote>“One little blog post is nothing on its own, but publish a thousand blog posts over a decade, and it turns into your life’s work. This blog has been my sketchbook, my studio, my gallery, my storefront, and my salon. Absolutely everything good that has happened in my career can be traced back in some way to this blog. My books, my art shows, my speaking gigs, some of my best friendships—they all exist because I have my own little piece of turf on the Internet.”</blockquote></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And that paragraph brought back everything I loved about my blog. It brought me so many friends and opportunities. I can’t even count them, but they include TV shows, writing for magazines, the whole 12 by 12 project, including the book, the exhibits, the wonderful <i>people! </i>My writing improved<i>. </i>My thinking changed. I grew. I changed. I found my voice. I’m not sure why I got away from it. Austin Kleon also said something like, “people think you write a blog because you have something to say, but, really, you start a blog and <i>find</i> something to say.” So true. When I was blogging regularly I was aware of the world in a way I hadn’t been. I was observant, watching for what Ray called “blog fodder” but also what delighted me in big or small ways. I miss that. Maybe I can get it back. Maybe I can’t...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And now, because I can never bear to publish a blog post without a picture, here’s a little drawing I made of myself. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKr5faO-hNpIFK4_uTtb_KWH7BJaupdXNgkDmS_8o9cOjoeNky5PPXvR5pBOBVw8S95lPEAYIIVl5Blb9mgbGmAW2aK-ZCZ_PcuA8QF8PMUbMHJKdKB3cvfFZJz-aDx7wnUk5j/s800/D5DCCD95-8FA8-4FBD-808A-E113AAA46814.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="775" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKr5faO-hNpIFK4_uTtb_KWH7BJaupdXNgkDmS_8o9cOjoeNky5PPXvR5pBOBVw8S95lPEAYIIVl5Blb9mgbGmAW2aK-ZCZ_PcuA8QF8PMUbMHJKdKB3cvfFZJz-aDx7wnUk5j/s320/D5DCCD95-8FA8-4FBD-808A-E113AAA46814.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">I know, it doesn’t really look like me, but that’s not important. I quickly traced over a photo, without lifting the pencil—all one continuous line. (To be accurate, it is a digital drawing, so it was an Apple Pencil—). It’s a good exercise in finding the important parts and leaving out the rest. Make of that idea what you will. Try it. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Lora, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-48277956752423970852020-12-31T16:53:00.000-08:002020-12-31T16:53:37.864-08:00Hope for 2021<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWF2uswSVDjuI2NxK0VNWpOf17nKNNfP2N-JT9PDqpVL8dU8NyX-JRJ3h4M5fO-g24NQLsz6UCzei-WafWPoddOaExPGad0y5iO0QQmm92508xcLL6YyVdMV5h5ohRWzN0pNB/s738/38884B22-AB8D-4A4E-8B83-2B6AA55C31F4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="529" data-original-width="738" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWF2uswSVDjuI2NxK0VNWpOf17nKNNfP2N-JT9PDqpVL8dU8NyX-JRJ3h4M5fO-g24NQLsz6UCzei-WafWPoddOaExPGad0y5iO0QQmm92508xcLL6YyVdMV5h5ohRWzN0pNB/w405-h290/38884B22-AB8D-4A4E-8B83-2B6AA55C31F4.jpeg" width="405" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">Ten years ago, as part of an online group, I started choosing a word for the year instead of New Years resolutions. I like doing this and have made it my practice since. I make a small artwork to hang in my studio to remind me of the word. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxif1eAtJ0eAxbu3R8Tp31m-KHiNlx2_YG1uCpKuyRicMyaKl79LHFxMnk8vGl-FkOtsJQbMgkfOe5EKfTNaFrQoea2AKReVpwGsPNeCdRIMrsv417T1By4eAqVo-AuZYPkzx/s800/713E0A60-5D65-4157-A80B-7E9788B96706.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxif1eAtJ0eAxbu3R8Tp31m-KHiNlx2_YG1uCpKuyRicMyaKl79LHFxMnk8vGl-FkOtsJQbMgkfOe5EKfTNaFrQoea2AKReVpwGsPNeCdRIMrsv417T1By4eAqVo-AuZYPkzx/s320/713E0A60-5D65-4157-A80B-7E9788B96706.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;">For 2020 I chose “And...”. In retrospect it seems like a reckless choice, as if inviting the chaos that ensued, but I had plans and a sense of excitement about 2020. We had a trip to Mexico planned. We were looking forward to celebrating our 50th Anniversary, with our family in Hawaii. I had a renewed enthusiasm about my art practice and was planning to take some classes and learn some new skills. We did make it to Mexico before COVID 19 reared it’s ugly head, but most everything else was cancelled and we joined everyone else in hunkering down, waiting for a vaccine, for an election, for things to get better. But, of course, it all got worse as the pandemic grew, the country erupted over racial inequality, schools shut down, the economy tanked, the election brought drama, and the human toll of all of it became almost overwhelming. </p><p style="text-align: left;">For 2021 I, unsurprisingly, chose the word “Hope”. There is a vaccine. There will be a new President. There is cause for hope. But, make no mistake, my “Hope” is not joyful or shiny and bright. Too much has happened for that. It is a cautious, beseeching kind of hope, because we’re not out of the woods. It is a conditional Hope because we’ve lost what can never be regained. It is a Hope steeped in mourning and regret. I feel we will never be the same. This year we have lost more of our fellow citizens than we have ever lost to any war or natural disaster. When I think of our personal pain in losing our cousin Phil, of the big laugh, the big mustache and the big heart, and multiply that by the more than 300,000 souls lost to the virus, I wonder how we can even consider Hope. But we do. We must. </p><p style="text-align: left;">So, here’s to 2021. Surprise us. Justify our Hope! We’ve had a bad year, but I think, maybe, we’ve learned a few things too. Despite it all there have been sweet moments. I’ve had a lot of studio time and gotten a lot done. Here is a sampling of my 2020 art. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLd62EnA7uDHNsoIa1s-DFRxBdd0FKHZFmHqyO7yU1o_W4cGuYmuW_-ZtykE3vs0a0L-FCcdg7bTgAwK5tpoG8jSBAorSEjyA20rr0T0t3Lj4EK50T6N4dXShAJPUhFWdc-NUY/s967/2659823E-BDBF-44AB-A417-CA6658D4FFE4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="967" data-original-width="768" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLd62EnA7uDHNsoIa1s-DFRxBdd0FKHZFmHqyO7yU1o_W4cGuYmuW_-ZtykE3vs0a0L-FCcdg7bTgAwK5tpoG8jSBAorSEjyA20rr0T0t3Lj4EK50T6N4dXShAJPUhFWdc-NUY/w414-h522/2659823E-BDBF-44AB-A417-CA6658D4FFE4.jpeg" width="414" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And a rare, sweet moment, with our daughter and grandchildren last week. A nice way to end this awful year...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq1MMfpQjhY2o1iAuyI_rJk-sdLg43S6SMcwS3dtr2mJVmsSRFRd6kQT-WkTlUsLt0HH9nFq-5S8yPNw2dF9BKNQ3fzMEQVh8sN2I-SJCKNpu8v-GkKdWZQbTkH9edRy65xgk/s1067/6B85EC69-0AA9-47A2-B45B-B3CA34DFD60C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="800" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq1MMfpQjhY2o1iAuyI_rJk-sdLg43S6SMcwS3dtr2mJVmsSRFRd6kQT-WkTlUsLt0HH9nFq-5S8yPNw2dF9BKNQ3fzMEQVh8sN2I-SJCKNpu8v-GkKdWZQbTkH9edRy65xgk/w295-h394/6B85EC69-0AA9-47A2-B45B-B3CA34DFD60C.jpeg" width="295" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-71712010824741933542020-09-11T11:11:00.001-07:002020-09-11T11:11:09.943-07:00What we remember...<div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_29a3_4521_b7b7_ce5f" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/61PZA6_WC5i70-vWuzpuNOSSE-VStouHqRA0LuDsobfKmJEjW4Rpa0AK2okeV00" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">It was 15 years ago today that I started writing this blog. For quite a few years I posted very regularly, recording a lot of the minutiae of my life—daily walks, art projects, travel and the small things happening around me. Then Facebook came along and the little day to day stuff ended up there, instead of on the blog, but I hung onto to the blog for the things I most wanted to remember. It was always my backup memory. Ray would say “What was the name of that wonderful old hotel where we stayed in Cheyenne?” A quick search of the blog brought up, not only the name and the date, but photos and the story of that trip. I’ve never kept a journal until I started blogging and it became my journal. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">I’m interested in memory—what we remember and what we forget. Can memory be trusted? It astounds me sometimes how two people, remembering a shared experience, will remember it so differently. There are times, in my life, that I tell myself, “I MUST remember this”—how it looked, or made me feel. Or I just know, “I WILL remember this.” </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Right now, in the seventh month of this worldwide COVID-19 pandemic, I wonder how this time in our lives will be remembered. I wonder, especially, how my grandchildren, and other children will remember it. Will they remember the hardship of missing school and friends, the boredom of that? Will there be pleasant memories of the adults in their lives efforts to compensate for what their children are missing? Are they fully aware of what is actually happening in the world outside their own small worlds? Even I, old as I am, have a hard time taking it in. Will I remember being afraid? I don’t think so, even though I’m sure if this was fiction I was reading I would imagine the characters being in terror of the threat of death by way of a highly contagious virus. I look back on the past seven months as something of a blur of days, pretty much one the same as the next. I think of the only real change within our home being the basket of masks and hand sanitizer by the front door at the ready for the occasional foray out into the world. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Every morning I sit in my chair with my coffee and my iPad and I view the world from here. I am often angry at the poor response our government has made to our safety. I am often angry at the foolish actions of stupid people whose actions are prolonging the epidemic. I wonder if my main memory of this time will be my anger, but then I am moved by the goodness of so many, by the creativity and cleverness that has been born in ways of coping and thriving through all of this and I am entertained and distracted by the vast well of humor that the sheer awfulness of the moment has inspired. I live for the next Randy Rainbow video! So life in the time of pandemic is a mix of rage, and inspiration with the wonderful grace of at least one good laugh a day. And it has become a kind of “normal” that I never envisioned. Ray and I often remind each other how lucky we are—for health and security and family— things it is too easy to take for granted. On certain days, not too often, I look up from the iPad and the enormity of what is happening washes over me and I really feel the horror and despair of where we are. I feel the tragedy of all the death and suffering. It is huge. I don’t want to remember, but I know we will never forget and I believe the perspective of time will allow us to understand just how tragically significant this year has truly been. And, may it be only this year and not an ongoing condition. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">How will I feel when I read this next year? In 5 years? Maybe in 10 years 2020 will be a blip on the radar or maybe it will have been the year that changed everything. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">And so it goes...</div></div> Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-19404143625117108252020-07-31T15:11:00.001-07:002020-07-31T16:09:14.749-07:00Still at Home with the family treasures...Now it’s the end of July and the COVID virus rages on around us as we stay safely at home. The days pass surprisingly quickly. Ray works in the yard, futzes with his sprinkler system, sorts books donated to the used book store where he volunteers and this week he is processing the large crop of garlic from the garden. He has been drying some, chopping and freezing some. The house reeks of garlic, but I know we will be happy to have it when we’re cooking good serious soups and stews this winter. <div><br></div><div>This time at home has been an opportunity to attack some improvement projects, like painting the kitchen. A couple weeks ago Ray found a guy to come in and repair some ceiling damage that happened years ago, but we’d never been able to get anyone in to repair it. That necessitated moving my great-grandmother’s China cupboard out, away from the work area. I had to box up all the treasures inside and today I cleaned everything, inside and out and put it all back in place and wondered, not for the first time, why we save the things we save. I can assure you there’s little of much monetary value in there. </div><div><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_53f7_19e7_b21_e60d" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/ydC0hlXSzgY3zBTx9Ndfu7p84pZ6n3893Tu-Q1rGpH9U2LdaTEgIHyU1SiHnudg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 900px; height: auto;"><br><br>This piece of carnival glass came with the cupboard. My mother seemed to remember that my great grandmother either won it in a drawing at the movie theater or it came in a box of laundry powder. The China cup, below, was her father’s mustache cup. It is quite worn and chipped. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_1ccb_c9a3_3a23_21ff" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/Spijvs63vFYEhROjGMa2amBSEXLINn_KNpIetupT1yFhJoVTtI5N48i1BIVABBc" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Here’s a treasure!—an old, unopened bottle of Coca Cola with the name of my hometown, Pocatello, Idaho, molded into the bottom of the bottle. My dad did a lot of work, designing and building machinery for the bottling plant in Pocatello, and the manager of the plant became a good friend. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_b9a8_2067_9c1d_32d" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Gh7NuRq5GSyxyWbALYCl_31cVJLwlzrmyc6qM8t2OIvJ1HokDSBcofEqgVV3w7Y" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>And here’s a miniature version—another relic of my childhood. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_6362_34bb_8102_c166" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/LJUUZzQPD9Un39s0nzk37zKHj5Mv63KAfaMDvBMGY8NOnfXnDUKBP4u1Swsqnxg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Faded 4- leaf clover in an old dish</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_c7ea_ef9e_9ae4_6241" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/e4p-AAgxW17NkeuiNpk9b2t5tgczel-65mQA6FqkykxRBDtMnKP7yIt3q1tdBKY" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Old Chinese tea cups from second hand stores. They remind me of the old Chinese restaurant in Pocatello. I loved that place...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_459b_d951_2822_5523" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/lMWfQhfKRU8fJqtM95z4Q_Tv8OLqHsKTTr1Whol7HiOtq_0DvUknYcp9rU8PU7k" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>OK, here’s something that might be valuable—a commemorative plate for the coronation of King Edward VIII of England in 1937. “Long may he reign”. Remember how that turned out? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_418c_44aa_dba0_786a" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/HdOKnPeGCn32zVlkem53xQAfm4xsq1oV3KY9K_f0UMLRXb1R5VzUvzfXaqT0cq8" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Found an identical one currently for sale on eBay, asking $60 or best offer...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, seriously, why do we keep such things? Going through them this morning I started out planning to cull out a lot of worthless “junk.” I ended up putting it all back. It was nice to think about other times and the people connected to all these things. It felt good to wipe down the wood and clean all the glass of the cupboard, that was a prized possession of Cora Lee Shelton, my great grandmother, in this house on the Colorado plains so long ago. That’s Cora with her family. My grandmother, Clarice, is the little girl with the horse. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_79ef_a520_6cd2_2b73" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/rUh_WxUNu-A-RLRFNLftxn-LVp6GE2U9KcPo2QDKEO04DypfcJ0GV1EdG7iI4uE" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br>When she died the cupboard went, with my mother, to Idaho. When my mother died it came to Oregon with me. Putting it back in place and handling and placing each piece took me out of the moment this morning and let me feel my connection to people I loved and times past. Those dear people, long gone are treasures and these odd, collected bits my only material connections to them. I hope someone in my family will want the cupboard someday, and love it, as 4 generations, so far have. As its current guardian I’m happy to keep it safe. It’s nice to see it sparkle again. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img id="id_e5ae_b226_bbbe_6465" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/gIBFeY38PN5dHeHcSHBJGpzXMxGEGtGYbN9ilFNaGoEiSrIFyEzGGlyGKlU4kro" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-63283572709327485372020-07-31T14:30:00.001-07:002020-07-31T14:30:06.891-07:00Still at Home...Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-83131418815184008402020-05-19T17:41:00.001-07:002023-02-13T11:53:00.951-08:00What I did on my Coronavirus vacation (so far...)Here we are, well into our third month of staying at home, doing our best to avoid getting, and, or spreading the virus. Since we’ve never done this before, I think we’ve all had to figure out how to “do” quarantine. I am reading that everybody responds differently to such unusual situations. Some people have talked of being depressed, hopeless; some of my art friends are having trouble focusing, or feeling creatively dry. My initial feeling was restlessness and indecision about what changes to make and wondering how long this would all last. But meanwhile I had some projects in process to work on and I found spending time in my studio was a very welcome distraction from the onslaught of bad news coming in. I can spend time in my chair, in my house, catching up with online life and news, and I do, but I seem to make sense out of the senseless by having a project to work on and see through to completion. Perhaps that is just my lifelong habit and only now am I realizing it is also my way of pushing aside stress and worry and creating a sense of purpose and accomplishment. Clicking through my phone photos this morning illustrated to me just how hyper-productive I’ve been. <div><br /></div><div>What I’ve been doing...</div><div><ul><li style="text-align: left;">Making art. I can’t show yet the quilt I made for the newest Cloth in Common challenge, but it is done and will be revealed at the end of this month. I also made a 12” square piece for the SAQA auction in September. My latest everyday saint – St. Corona. She, of course, is wearing a mask, which is removable. I am grateful that I have a large stash of fabric and art supplies, because I am not out shopping for anything. By chance, I had purchased some tiny, but very strong magnets for another project and ended up not using them. They proved to be the perfect thing for making Corona’s mask magically removable. </li><li style="text-align: left;"> </li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_dec8_80b2_208e_aceb" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/DqFiF_t9SlATSrs8LT6gSLthd5uzlMbM9mE7lCYH8I-4izu2Uu9fukBSXMmOisc=s16000" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><img alt="" id="id_24a6_9557_83c9_e1df" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/f53Ud_GdWPqfr0kRdDKB3DYP_7sZgblhX8s-PPeJGL9R9j3B0sD3aAZsg0-hrIw" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I also made a small portrait of my granddaughter for her March birthday. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_6e29_251e_4abe_813e" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pE69kPLCUg58a1ywH1rCmHkMIgk8Kq0fV3tVbwX9KKMtawro3zUgK68jNXXgM7k" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I made this bird, with a copper beak, to submit for a High Fiber Diet Show. I wonder if that will still happen. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_2001_4c26_92c4_3850" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/FTYsen8UMb3m6DZmcEDeEi1c8yD0OzsmfHb2cHdn7goGgqJ-LaRSScDtHuAKqoQ" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I finished a penny necklace I had started several months ago, for myself. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_6147_b567_f972_f32" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/JfDTOgJ-bOdTCAnoa-AA_gWxajz-UOj3Dh5GoitV4-P1fTOf9Wylu9uAGxhMtzs" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Making clothes and mending, hemming and altering old clothes.</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;">I’ve had the fabric and pattern for this top for more than a year. Finally made it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_5a30_27fe_8bdf_1317" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/K_-kte5a_nVkw3KHSQRrmT2mgh2vTQdPHqup-xnUCfjJzyn3TDF3nvxxkjweITk" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I bought the fabric for this jacket in Mexico in early March. I wonder when I’ll ever get to wear it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_ee3a_397f_2b23_3564" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/Kk6lXob9SZ1uuajMeLwxlsWwnbIAPGjmD_bGDe4kaIVabXSZdpJZxobY0D7EFYY" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Connecting online. Meetings and get togethers on Zoom, sharing with groups on Facebook. I designed a Stay at Home craft project for my grandchildren. We worked together on FaceTime and they made little (3” x 3”x4”) collaged houses with an LED tea light inside to give their mother for Mothers Day.</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_2560_e113_5ae6_4171" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/asibC0e_65wYcSpESr9DXBYb8PlJm5aE5Pu6Lnoz4vY3l0phgmjhslci86xpngA" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I created a pattern and directions for this as pdf files. If you want a copy click <a href="mailto:terry.grant@comcast.net" id="id_e16a_122f_a882_879b">here</a> and send me your email address and I will send you copies—</div><div style="text-align: center;">U</div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Made masks. </li></ul><div style="text-align: center;">I wore this one on my outing to the eye clinic. Going out in the world is scary!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_4c5f_3f08_9c51_a061" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/ZEcEB_cGusX5VTh5GfqCkl0kOwjd6Ze3-F7x_Ovmp6bGKd94a3jMf9PwWfcQYwI" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Cooking, cooking, cooking. I think everybody is doing this! Rightly or wrongly, food is comfort!</li></ul><div style="text-align: center;">An especially pretty bacon, spinach, cheese frittata </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_5a08_316d_baac_5326" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/7h8K8FOM2QOSVh_XsVzLPW401v4fPw5cmnUfsmHJV9pVblfnQ0DOZpnFQl1REf0" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />Ray’s birthday cake. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_ba73_9d60_e3d1_af56" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/CRPeeQ53oZIM3NuYQbzy92bFeJfpeCFf3EdRABAomFpbHhpwj-qpiNrfOp7bb00" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Painting the kitchen. I’ve had the paint samples for close to 2 years. We were going to do this. We kept putting it off and putting it off. This week we did it! The new golden color is so warm and inviting. </li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_9871_f469_2aea_f4a7" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/Mthwim00coMXBl4a7F-4nVgkk4gx3aRlqA6MLKK3doN8zCyn_IugyCnnRwwdLkE" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><img alt="" id="id_df5c_240d_7618_dc94" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/MbwACoLulMI10ShUCAkB6mKkMdveZWmclY4HSWU4i8QFlXktB3nmJmsfZtretXE" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><img alt="" id="id_9c3b_e75_12a8_a26f" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/RBmeulqMM5MCJC9EdDQFTJpm0UES66kvC7SNHUAOHrNv843U6HthayBhmo7ZDeM" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br />I hung my New Mexican hearts up with the Mexican Skeleton on the newly painted wall. </div></div></div><br /></div></div></div></div></div><img alt="" id="id_b5d7_18c_e0ed_261" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/1IE_T5Actz_RQHgHuaNiuF-IPcfPOwiOZ7U8RKe_UxdxJusBdS8-U5PVmg7sreM" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>Cleaning and organizing. One thing leads to another. Painting the kitchen meant I wanted it put back together in a more organized way, which meant I needed to reorganize some cabinets where I could store things I no longer use frequently, and dispose of a lot stuff I no longer want or need. I’ve cleaned out drawers and closets and piled up clothes to donate. A search for a specific photo reminded me that I have never gotten back to my project of organizing 50 years worth of photos. </li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" id="id_c8ca_f0b7_4504_ea9e" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/ZD6mO6McQqHilpxj4k4AqgmrSMvg4JSN3Hog2QNL0YEosmZUW73pd4TOt2LVglg" style="height: auto; width: 746px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And so it goes. I am looking forward to getting back to our normal life, but it doesn’t feel safe. I am alarmed by the anger and impatience of the noisy minority who are pushing to put aside all caution and endanger the slow progress that has been made. I hope I can relax and be patient and maybe slow myself down a little. We ponder a road trip to a place where we feel safe and at peace. Perhaps... </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When will we all feel truly secure again? We do what we can do. I busy myself, you sleep more, or read more or pace the floor. I feel softer toward everyone—more forgiving, more tolerant. I feel that from nearly everyone. Will we, in hindsight, view this time as cursed or blessed? Will we come out of it bitter and grieving or somehow better than we were? I don’t know. In the midst of so much death and illness and anger and petty snarling, we are also seeing courage and generosity and kindness of a sort I’m not sure we’ve seen before. Are you as confused and conflicted and bewildered as I am? I know only one thing, for sure right now. That is that staying apart has brought us together. Stay safe...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-17990209201383956472020-05-13T14:06:00.001-07:002020-05-13T17:56:52.859-07:00100 Days<div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_fa58_7600_924b_8ec0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/KwMvMw_foH43w4Z_o0g-ZAJJqqQVLB2CqVhY1vFqU89Z5PC3I4eCAhx-edYWy-I" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">I just finished an online project called “100 Days of Creativity”. It’s a program of the Studio Art Quilts Associate’s (SAQA) that I am a member of. Members who want to participate simply upload a photo of something creative they have done that day to an online album. It is a great source of inspiration to look at daily and a little incentive to share our work in an informal way. I first participated last year and shared random images of what I was working on. For this round I decided to use the opportunity to explore decorative hand stitching/embroidery and created an irregular grid of 100 rectangles to fill a day at a time. I cut the grid from painted and fusible-backed non-woven fabric and fused it to a piece of natural linen. The grid is approximately 12” x 13.5” and each rectangle about the size of a large-ish postage stamp. I had saved a clear plastic, zippered case (I think a tablecloth came in it) that seemed just perfect to hold my threads, equipment and the work in progress. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_b761_baa4_2d99_dc57" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/S-8pXAj6wb4-f_UQy4F1Z5-mopDmqQRA0tIW2C5zSvSuTAPE_pyMYTcRJC2fp5s" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">I tried to try something different each day. I worked randomly, starting near the center and tried to be mindful of how that day’s cell (I had started to think of them as “cells”) related to the ones it was adjacent to, varying the weight and color for a balanced composition. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Some cells took only 10 minutes or so to complete, some took an hour or more. Some of them really made me happy. Some of them are pretty ugly. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_a7bf_5e8f_ba0a_8cc3" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/SE_JTZXIcHOGoQ3xUM2Nd_DToeOGfYGAljwvtA0Wd28kmkP2QEhKg9A5Tn7JdIQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_d55f_5b16_fd97_1ebe" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/6QmHWTPvTq8POBVID0fFz4fK1IIvaGBycONCTGLMih8ltYwhNj2jdEAfj9Oscsg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">I rarely knew what I was going to do until I sat down to do it. Most were about trying different techniques or stitches. Some reflected something I had seen or done that day. We saw a beautiful exhibit of artfully arranged insects and beetles, which inspired a beetle. Later I added another beetle just for repeated motif, done in a different way. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img id="id_8a35_f897_8235_c649" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/uh8M7c3zbV9jwm2kOWdYbbiGOaluTc-8TqBSXnEQoZgA4JE1KtI5752tbJsxtXg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are two hearts in the piece. The first was added on Valentines Day, the second in Mexico after a day of folk art with winged hearts. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_8649_9840_ff4b_f052" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/mRzxzc7ZZsLX4RO2c_gkOtpoKdJq_vpGZnm8OO-3SKLEFoGXohch5pxw2sDJzS0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">The candle was done on my birthday. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><img id="id_4908_4b5d_888e_c464" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/rHVq-sHGA9RyjkI-XhEUT5OWxoycsqBUPRH_0IdV7IGGw7tf_caHskQ58Cgky6Y" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Toward the end of February we went on vacation to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. I took the project along and faithfully stitched a cell each night of our vacation. The tomato appeared after we took a cooking class. Other “Mexican” images of flowers and plants and color combinations are sprinkled through the work as well. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_eabf_c4f5_c064_849c" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/sAzq25BhAZL4eF0C_0K_B6mDFlZSP9_bLjJdz6e1LUDEEk_dWrcU_MsnWE8GGTU" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">On March 10 we returned to the US and the new world of the Corona virus. We have been at home since, where I continued to stitch a cell each night. I have not consciously made the pandemic the subject of my stitching, but it is there in the thread. The one cell that actually looks a bit like the virus was done early in the process, before the Corona virus was even on my radar. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_eb05_e6bd_c84c_c4a" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/WMwEny5Yi655ytwDJTBGl2sCPkU-W6riMmxnT5aBL9JnBncIFfSPoM7lZ5jvrVo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I got down to the last day the only remaining empty cell just happened to be top row center and it seemed like it somehow needed to sum up the project, so I stitched my house, where so much of this was made under quarantine. It didn’t turn out very well—house, trees, sky—all too much for that tiny little space, but I know what it means and it stays. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>February 1 - May 10, 2020</b>. 100 days in my life. I didn’t miss a day. I learned a lot about hand stitching, including some of what not to do. I watched it grow and I see those days in it. I feel emotional when I look at it and think about what those days have been—wonderful and awful, joyous and really sad. It is an instant artifact and something to keep as a reminder of what a journey of 100 days can encompass. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">And now the back, because—sigh—because everyone wants to see the back. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_5a9f_e96b_e6e3_1364" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/bU8rhqgGuuWf3edemGMjMjwWRaSDNKa9YERFAb8l_JZT4Gr3aTHBu8TEG8XTY7E" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div></div></div></div> Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-9063305077001703162020-04-19T12:15:00.001-07:002020-04-19T13:14:04.161-07:002020 — And back to the unreal worldThe day we left Mexico more and more cases of Corona virus were being reported from the US. Recommendations were to wash your hands frequently or use hand sanitizer; don’t shake hands with anyone and avoid anyone who appeared ill or was coughing. The León airport was quiet, with few travelers. We waited for our plane, sitting far from other passengers. At one point a group of people found seats near us and one was coughing, wetly, into a tissue as she took the seat next to me. We hastily grabbed our belongings and moved several rows away. I felt bad. It seemed rude and obvious...<div><br></div><div><img id="id_2302_b500_c95d_1882" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/yywDcjcNU3oJRXg9wJn26bjfe5GFG_G53-dJN5bOAJTcL7OBXs2bkOf6-X-a0eo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_fce8_3cd0_d9fb_3f01" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/b4vRk0HIzwzp4p4d71O014hXvnjLePgI4i6I47cbTo1a03MEHIaMq-ZPAkQuRQE" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>At the airport in Dallas we did our best to maintain some space as we made our way through the customs process and were glad to be on the last leg toPortland. </div><div><br></div><div>Once home we had to hurry to prepare for a guest from out of town. Susan Metzger, who we had met on our tour in Morocco a couple years ago was coming from Colorado to speak at our Columbia FiberArts Guild Quarterly meeting, then give a two-day workshop on creating batiks. One person questioned the wisdom of holding these events and canceled out of the workshop. The rest of us believed we could be careful and would be safe. I confess to believing, at that time, that it was not “that bad” and cancelling everything would have been an overreaction. Who knows? We were lucky. No one was infected as a result, and the class was so, so good. </div><div><br></div><div>Over the two days Susan led us through the creation of two batiks—the first based on photos of irises that she had brought, and the second, a design of our own. The process is kind of mysterious, in that you are never sure, until the end, what you will wind up with. The medium is imprecise and unexpected things happen and colors behave differently from one day to the next. Though we all made “iris” pieces, based on the same photos , they were all distinctly different in the end. </div><div><br></div><div>You apply hot wax to your fabric in steps, dyeing progressive colors in between—covering in each step, the parts of the composition that you wish to remain the current color. </div><div><br></div><div>Susan helping Sheri decide the sequence of colors she will use to create her bird</div><div><img id="id_2ba7_b698_f64f_2672" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/0Goieh5DNDSTFS5VvUBF3bxUhh7rESz9xuhSXIPD0bc04lCxJhPsqCRs_4vcG-U" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>First wax application, then the first, pale blue dye. When these are dry, more wax will be applied<br><img id="id_768e_b255_3fdd_37f3" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/m2F9bTuygg44xqZXa37GwfY-00h6VWIYLRljnlveGPapmNMFpBhfgAY7ehSpNwo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Then a darker blue<br><img id="id_a2f8_fcfd_2aca_3276" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/Lqy1pAkWD_rnR1HsJx5qOl78MNF3yZTzTpv9TsAAlpTtCSic6MA-7ZLh3M9fIZA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Yellow dye turns the unwaxed blue areas to green<br><img id="id_8e6b_283c_590d_fdb2" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/nTS-hTA2Ut7NXhoBaJc2wVIK_W4bD5TntxDESLE_NUL8G3go8MMczXubxzfJsE0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>And finally a very dark, purple blue dye. <br><img id="id_d039_1343_964f_76e6" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/gFs7QBSDQDASXaJAFcfrcmhUmHoL8L4iwLhFs1tk4aY_I4iiQtV9uRC5h3ljSsc" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Here’s my second piece drying at an intermediary stage where the amount of orangey red is startling! Have faith.<img id="id_f620_480f_7322_8ed7" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/erBk-bbY4lc5O-c0upnr4FGH2oXKXCIBOZuHAIvl-Yc3S5h2gQitlsfzKODbMmM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br> </div><div>At the end we removed most of the wax by ironing our pieces between layers of newspaper and newsprint and gasped to see the results. Here are my two pieces. I like them a lot. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_df13_8261_7d15_56f1" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/AKod13C8sBKCXaO2HdkUxwoqwQejNisLU8HoWVdJx6KIl1HhOKHmo6zA6rCxm8g" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_6a9b_a737_72c_6617" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/g3WpRiRWoH1gTwpy0308TIYh_chRIbkVTKuU-1giysWp7XIPzHh--CSu9DoEIC8" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>By the end of the day on Friday, March 13, the Corona virus news was getting bad. Our class had planned to take Susan out to dinner, but decided we just all needed to get home. Ray, Susan and I shared a bottle of wine and a quiet dinner at home. <br><img id="id_9236_c897_6516_d8b9" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/pdZPtUqcWG7BGx8CucZrxshTDXC6PYvAVtMR4Pf_7Zeg_FdQsWC9P4nr5Srj1Lw" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>The next morning Ray and I took Susan to the airport in a snowstorm, and then we went home and haven’t left. That was a little more than a month ago, but it seems much longer. The snow only lasted for a day and in that month Spring has come. The earth turns, the flowers bloom, the season changes. We stay home and sometimes are so sad we cry—not for ourselves, we are fine, but instead for the sick and dying, the exhausted and emotionally spent health workers, the homeless and hungry, those out of work, those grieving. </div><div><br></div><div>And so it goes...</div><div><br></div><div><br><br></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-12250951417812879522020-04-17T15:00:00.001-07:002020-04-17T15:42:18.058-07:002020 Mexico - San Miguel is like a dream...After I wrote my last blog post I realized it would take me weeks to post about our time in San Miguel de Allende if I tried to describe it all. I took hundreds of photos and looking back at them brings back the warmth, the beauty, the art, the music, the people—all so colorful and rich in Mexican culture it seems, now, like a dream I had once, even though it was just a few weeks ago. I think I’ll let my photos do most of the talking. It was hard to edit down to a few favorites. <div><br></div><div>The sheer beauty of the place, with its Colonial architecture and vibrant gardens is what first takes hold of you, then the people. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_3e15_7ca4_c6bd_165b" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/juecnCIcLkrybS3VNS34MhMCI72p5ONOo4j0AT2u1d6zpkANqcDvQzcNN8ckoRo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br></div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_d6ce_a806_8948_2000" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/VYBbZRN5iT0eiIjwoqrgl-adOGG6gYnnWJ4p_EQirlK877V_k_kIR4poFJ8b-tI" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_44_c0a3_8679_59fd" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/SjN2XroSto7G9btDOImpaQtJWQWVEbchsQkwdpU_4aI_dNNgHgt83qTq4H_0wt4" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_af32_9c90_c343_a8e9" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/CXtHslPtkE5ADi6B0NlLmiVNJc6I8UDcQCG2Kzwy4g-53FfZwzxt6WWDYbtDX-Y" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_b30a_9237_c9c7_a73d" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/TfAQFnFhw86S3XpEZBFL5_rub1p460y3Xfun370t7N0RPNI_r4D9iOGo9PjyJWY" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br><img id="id_fe60_9a93_2db9_5ec5" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/GeppbFvvZXYPD5Kxs1mIcFRQVAl_Bx9iWo8o0xGj4mQgoSyv9L9iWqIW7Tsl4Rk" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_1456_f190_2b6c_4799" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/LWfykuRUQ3stcsA0dhe_K_rnlGDa3n9sTqjiD-rDFiPRATZpwVRagImZP5Hl2FY" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_b477_dd77_67f8_a09e" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/jeGlxvbe__E0tXlDlNdAiSfKl5rSU859GcyLlNlctrWikMLwWpc5HFLSMCIGCCA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Everywhere you turn you find artisans’ work, from the simple carvings being sold on the street, like the woman above, to fine gallery work and artisan markets. It ranges from bright and whimsical to soulful, dark and mysterious.</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_f0e5_6463_af73_4711" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/1Yl0qHPEeqSVHOFm5YI-YDcTny30SyX8V2V42B5rrQQxS6b72uFrY_AyILZ4tlk" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_4a1_cf12_3d5f_58e" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Rg59x7gjhtQQIgsfqqXaeFPZpyEVUFJ8_4QEF3E5v5BmmEvPFwBK1QebngNuAIA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_50f4_713c_5074_59a4" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/9uymM0JW6dgFA9sSeXasULMX2NzzjB4dmm8AIlKg-h3ueSD523LIFAkg7RAk3qA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_24a4_5a20_b330_450c" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/pBzhERaK2BI3WtkLy4uk9q5E82Y-z0oTBPEfABiugI_GZFsSvte1jPksjguZCTM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_aa46_9cd0_1f0e_6a21" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/lKpniGq5INlYHK-9rpX3Rg5E71pRXRqxqSa5CHG4bqcUwZXTqjunEM9u9AI3TM4" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_fce6_d9d2_faa6_8e0e" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/7rr9eSwqpcuFmHCSuYkWiWduMctQO-JEpgXUZY4pFAlqec67My3GMy2aSRTFxfA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_21b1_5741_c010_8258" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/XC-QzGW4sFuH71vGhXP_y306kuDzfczPCDw6Jg5j1zQUlk_cqDYj4tuHzP6pPQg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>We spent an afternoon in the mask museum, learning about and viewing handmade masks used in rituals and celebrations throughout Mexico. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_6b11_bc5_23b4_5291" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/LwlCRrcMJdtIm--heuaiUYADTagTH9fLmkYhM9KUAhUaaqMl4A_4hma9et-Loc4" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_7579_7474_b8bb_8bcb" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/98_aKmyanEOvlqICnOlVIrtI0k4g7rlVebrByeazr2EgLJNQ2wgLR6pXYEXIHyg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_e7e6_7622_6ecb_467" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/ieh-6hnsE0gbzEbs8CrbJjFEEr0U366Xrgv3xRmoeRN-cE_WbZtjs8KCDQdy00I" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_9e39_f7b9_19b6_af69" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/YOYbTSvvvCkVkplK2oL4JN51XtB3ybRkEVtA4ZhsSu4gEqnXlRpnr90ZhURpbkQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_aba7_1e9e_dfe6_94a2" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/i4NmUgbhrTbk07Uj3iESGgcjOm4l5hqjHdUReDf0y5HR8MifGziUrKcbfeEwuL0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>The Toy Museum was a last minute decision when our planned winery tour fell through. I’m SO glad we went there! Pure delight!</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_6f34_ac84_b9b5_ed0e" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/Yxb_5-OxwJJlcdTyap5Cxg6JSpUVaJ6SH--idgZBtcisLDWKZTn1HOzicniqvkU" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_ce0e_e811_201a_638f" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_nZMZ0Jx5JYGZxwwDRy83YB3mn1WxyNkCyAw0U1Xa-GauLHuDBnmry8sYDhWOfg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_5c40_2d5_3036_5a24" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/bw3URk1FO3da-l9qIvvNjEW7Er_ZS28x5PBrHwtODBD53eK_cZ856yinTaJVoio" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_7834_6c8c_bf48_64c4" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/DVoByOD39h2NGgCocCEkD0rigimX0sGypywpS5f2sdOBFDG46BMRRn8E47GEZ08" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>One of our days in San Miguel was the Festival of Our Lord of the Conquest, which features native dancers from all over Mexico, performing throughout the day around the main square. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_befc_3bea_db53_5426" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/tnyQFNQQL4UdGDZutoVeCrbw3-eM5hY8FFxNqL2EL5MQNhHXRr6EAXlEVqL-Hc0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_e3bf_de13_b31b_91e6" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/5t227r4jDhnTzswvhKFIA5uFufL_LCPC_4TT-CBGS1Rzq7RGkmLjeVSzs9fvx2E" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_9bbe_39ed_dbf7_c248" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/IC2B85wZPBU-Im2EiXR9k1X3v5eQN97iBF8PDA1EixsQD3mBoGRpv5BM6D6sIWM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br>On our last day we walked several blocks from our BnB to a beautiful home where we took a cooking class. With the instruction of Chef Miguel, we prepared salsas and Mexican rice and chicken with mole, then we sat down to a lovely meal with Miguel and our fellow students. It was the perfect way to end our stay in Mexico. </div><div><img id="id_b18f_8526_8de1_f5b8" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/1Jf02OQbFEsN8GDasEFmwMYsHCO1hva6irxcZtnbv8hsRx9fyNZJBwVggDe42MI" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_c732_3ec0_e511_35b7" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/LJkpJ_IbGsr8X7Iv8EdKqhg8IeQ6h3KYXIWpcVHjwehFM4GFIMwfGDHt1rgzKAM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_e1e9_c252_e38_e57b" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/vypapKuqQUpAoicgO04_AqWKEPIzyohWvEbbeGPk9jM3JqNJC1MznpOBFZdLONc" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_ca1b_6f_a9f9_80e6" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/xaPFW0GVEQ3_skcDLtvAfgQGS5yLnBEX4Vi7yzij4pROhirv3R0vR3eW5c-Kw0s" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>That evening we walked down to the Jardin and Parroquia for a last time before our departure the next day. We were hearing about concerns back home about the Corona virus beginning to show up in the US. There was a case, even in our own county. It sounded concerning, but more questions than answers. It was not on our minds as we said our goodbyes to San Miguel, under a full moon. </div><div><img id="id_f2b7_4280_9539_cf0f" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Tw_1XvPhxiiPZFxO_w2T34JEANDwr8gdwiaSUvYFBIUtIQgO2s6lrIFR69TN-o" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_6a_d0f9_1665_3675" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/4bjCQTpG7DVySH-WulJo8QWwBKiBMCJx797pAEJ_iuWOWacALU307BF0U1HXnxY" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_1007_d7d6_cfdf_b5f" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/03TFqz3qtjz17-lXmNbMUAee5gy0w1KBA4Te01Y57FmF7nHpg7lcTnIPMA8y1RU" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div><br></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-7157058280351498832020-04-15T14:51:00.001-07:002020-04-15T14:51:17.211-07:002020 So Far — México<img id="id_6463_70f8_ecf7_48d6" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/Y6YYCsYZr9Q8Yr_gGQSRfmHwU_SD4e7g72f4m0h-eNLWlaaha-dZuautxQH6tYs" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br> <div>San Miguel de Allende is known as one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We had spent a couple hours there about 20 years ago and had always wanted to go back and see more. While we have loved our recent trips to Morocco and to Italy we were finding it hard to think about another long and exhausting flight, so Mexico sounded perfect. We liked the idea of choosing one place and exploring it and surrounding areas. We booked an Air BnB in the center of the old part of of San Miguel and it was the perfect location. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_9ac0_cd57_d36d_c1f8" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/WeEelP_yGMWAhjIlUFeqeID496vGYXyrmRfqY1cvoyYyXSnNkfv2tuxrPeO1iJ0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_f751_e0d6_d1b4_4c5a" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/HKbGvXo36SaxjdhWR1_N4X5zqk3Q8ImgRDuMHX-SEuscpKVZ5yRjGG7HvOgFU04" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Our little rooftop apartment and patio was comfortable, convenient and afforded a splendid view in the evening. We were just a few blocks from the Jardin, San Miguel’s main square, facing the the church, the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_3521_7a2_6d4_7d86" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/iIcilSianYuQGSLeML8kII9o_MhgRTJPYQSTkKtdKvHQ5IQHWfyLgaMjYpJvhEQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_c651_e2b7_74cd_205c" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/b1bP2xAqs11UMCarSGFfwEYCpC6XaVUR7c_OYBZOIBcA1vwaM8ziy4qTQfq2Cus" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>This was the perfect place for a cup of cafe con leche in the morning and to watch people visiting in El Jardin or attending mass at the church. During our stay we saw several wedding parties leaving the church and one morning there were dozens of families gathered out front with their beautifully dressed babies, preparing for a mass baptism inside. </div><div><br></div><div>Each day we looked for something interesting to see or do. One day we took a taxi to the outskirts of town for a tour of <a href="https://chapelofjimmyraygallery.com/" id="id_416b_ac6c_a39d_e7e">The Chapel of Jimmy Ray</a>. I had seen the website and we made an appointment for a tour, thinking it might be fun. It is the home and studio of Anado McLachlan and his partner Richard. Anado welcomed us and showed us around the grounds and home, telling stories all along the way. His little world is filled with color and whimsy and beauty and meaning. He is warm and generous of spirit and humorous and articulate. By far more than I expected. I could say much more, but the pictures tell the story. If you go to San Miguel de Allende, DO go visit the Chapel of Jimmy Ray. You will be richly rewarded.</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_4448_51e9_163c_3229" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/gOnYhq-qGzXdAQMytolo8awvzHrNZ4BdmYelTefAbJD-ilS4vNKqoldXp6ysIXk" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Anado leads the way</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_3677_f086_7dc0_3c01" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/XIahTHxvH-OXXldMFr2S2-IVuNTqZFCfU7cXa6uzJipbXTbuJA19bIw8WZG_Glg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>The most beautiful outhouse in México </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_9b86_352b_c4d4_b13d" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/irsQZN2fabBFYILbxMYqUYbz9A3X5i1Ph1ZruffGkq-1e0YjD7mFflifPe_i8Sg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_17eb_d78a_a637_df8d" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/3thvox1PtyvvvbEOGZch42Job7kw53YmkC8fGL9-mhfmiF3_ymxviaEFJlewZ2s" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_533b_b6e8_44b_61a1" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/frQBfVq9Dr6-WQofN22AEv3g7orlMSvgKFGQH5i2k4OX7Gxfdk-KVdbBNSgi904" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_44d5_6759_bda2_a95c" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/zSz0H7QW5SkgCznhKevWprJT52Crh3EumxYXYmwoi7TXqspBGdY06cRxtC9Uu0M" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>There are two galleries where he shows his work, as well as the work of several other artists</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_e7c7_b9b2_eed0_3ec5" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/6ViRWZNZJt-gPlUDvw31XxJAGuWGvDHq_2e7iWJkevH97ga5suLjn4N3uc8bDUs" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_4ed0_67e4_a630_58be" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Wh2sG87gFm5ltGT4_MGuCOmByy8FDs2HoxVIy3e8HlgoqaCXGyEWab4SMo3Lv1M" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Inside the house. </div><div><br></div><div>Enough color and inspiration to keep me going for a very long time, but there was more to come...</div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-56485950228865138772020-04-14T11:03:00.001-07:002020-04-14T11:21:26.710-07:002020 so far...<img id="id_4213_2971_6b21_d909" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/dV2W6pFfdR6EhuFKd7TzfkgXhA9Qwz0-jppshPIKdz9nNfu_oylvE3k278zEzp0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br> <div>My last blog entry was on New Year’s Day, looking forward to 2020 with “And” as my word for the year. Little did I know what all that “and” would encompass. Now it’s April and we know that 2020 already is one for the history books. </div><div><br></div><div>January and February are always quiet months, this one not so different. In the dark days of winter we settled in, but found what simple pleasures we could, in the form of good meals, visits to the art museum and the science museum and a memorable evening spent taking in the Portland Winter Light Festival in downtown Portland. (Above)</div><div><br></div><div>In my studio, I was learning about making things from copper. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_b5aa_1d77_2ba0_95e1" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/rqUk3Ifn5g28kZQ5K7evtyHvtr88OMuh0BssIgtm9MXw0LiNPp4ewfj-LlCCBKw" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_cb1_9a88_6ba1_7175" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/BEbvBKj8XrBqYlFeNpYuYCLQrGfAml-ALGO1u-Lh1veFErgc6Le5fvZoyTD_W-c" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_1b3b_16cc_3d60_ddef" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/Sg2IjapVNMjo-vXKePYXfIuj-ljG9zE_UWCG00YveRnfbhvwMmhTClEx5d049Vo" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>I delved into acid etching my own designs into copper and fashioned our annual valentine from one of those designs.</div><div><img id="id_d0e_a29d_28e9_bef3" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/e0sQwSCg22Gkqf77wXQbRp5WDDALswK8Uhsvmz1bA2MPzGPlK0Jjy8ruvI9Z1m8" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 816px; height: auto;"><br><br>I prepared a stitching project that would start February 1. For 100 days I would hand stitch a tiny composition in one of the sections of a 100 section design I had applied to a piece of natural linen. Each day’s work would be posted on a Facebook page for the SAQA 100 day challenge. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_2de7_6245_38cd_bc6" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/pM9cb45Nc6cHbDzKGvZyCFdad8FeLtqheaFmS6HHdoBs-qfKSVQmXzblbFFyxlw" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div>At the front of my mind, in February, was our upcoming trip to Mexico. I think I was packed, and ready at least a week ahead of our February 27 departure date. My plan was to take my stitching project along. By now it was beginning to look like a real thing, with 25 spaces filled. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_6a29_9381_bd33_3de9" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/JaPRwtOpmFVPWzEIQoIUuL7EsVldTNpVTUuxBWQfXKXkz3NZQX2yCSYLZLTh80M" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>I am trying to remember if, when we left for Mexico, I really knew anything about the Corona virus. I’m sure, if I did, it was something happening far away—China. Not on my radar... </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-26506008790657446442020-01-01T12:24:00.001-08:002020-01-01T12:24:11.417-08:00And...<div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_5509_7688_6a6f_25da" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/SskO4F0mpodTqsql10Tvhhwv528fnt9c6RrM2AJWwEfkNTVkXANTyfOLKek" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 733px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">Happy New Year!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Once again, instead of making New Year’s resolutions, I have chosen a word for the coming year. This started at least 10 years ago, when it was suggested on an online art group I belong to. Some of my chosen words have been quickly forgotten. Some have continued to resonate with me. Some were hard to choose. Some came easily. Last year’s word, unbound, never quite said what I was feeling, but it did express a hope for a kind of freedom I was hoping for to stretch myself a little. I took classes, I traveled, I lucked into some wonderful opportunities and learned some freeing and encouraging lessons. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">A year ago I was wondering what restrictions advancing age would place put on my desire to keep working as I have been. Perhaps, I thought, I would want to scale back, downsize my art practice, accept a decreased energy level as inevitable, but when I took my first class of the year I found it was so inspiring and energizing that I was ramping up, not scaling back. I was asked to present my work at the International Quilt Festival as a “Rising Star”—crazy! I was asked to join a gallery. I took another class. I bought new equipment. I sold more work than any other year of my life. I learned that life changes with age, but there is still always more. Different, unexpected, but more. So my word for 2020 is “and”. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"> ~Things will be what they have been, and... </div><div style="text-align: left;"> ~ I will do things I’ve done before, go back to favorite places, and... </div><div style="text-align: left;"> ~ I will be older, and... </div><div style="text-align: left;"> ~ I will still be what I am—a woman, a partner, a mother, a grandmother, a friend and... </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"> “And” is the promise of more. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">My words from previous years hang on my studio wall, now joined by AND, personified as &.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_875a_6b99_ef4f_6597" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/iWFoX-mujphR6tAOue8IhFEY9COuoDNB0zNJvdRylZwRbVt8AjmBbRLSO7A" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 532px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">AND so it goes...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div></div> Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-33361487106780674842019-12-19T17:14:00.001-08:002019-12-19T17:58:28.567-08:00Old dog, new trick This last year has been a creative one for me.I took two great classes this year, both of which pushed me in a new direction. The first, with Betty Busby, led to the purchase of a Silhouette cutting machine, which is my favorite new toy and has been in pretty continuous use since June. The class I took in September, with Mary Hettsmansperger, introduced me to the great fun of working with copper, and after that introduction I bought myself a torch and tools and supplies and have been noodling around with them. I made copper earrings for my STASH friends, using what I’ve figured out. <div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_866a_c534_13fc_f51d" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/V1T0U2aPu4-WfVKoGSNef7NnE0Q4Tr70NQkQOt0osBuBbJemrDD05X3UFpc" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 439px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">In addition to what I learned in the class, I peruse the internet,especially YouTube, which is just a trove of information and tips and tricks. Several days ago I was looking at copper jewelry videos and came upon something ASTOUNDING!—well, to me at least. People are out there making etched copper jewelry, using etching masks that they cut on their Silhouette cutting machines. Worlds collide! My two, current, most favorite things working together. I had to try this. The stuff I was seeing online was wonderful. But I knew nothing about etching copper, so onto YouTube I went and learned all about it and I got scared. It involves acid. Bad acid. I am not acquainted with acid, except for horrible stories about people being disfigured by having acid thrown on them, or gruesome stories about body parts dissolved in acid. And I never studied chemistry where I might have learned something about it. Somehow I managed to get through both high school and college without a chemistry class. So yesterday I screwed up my courage and went shopping for acid and chemical gloves from the hardware store and Pyrex containers from the thrift store and hydrogen peroxide from the drugstore and today I was ready to etch. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_ae16_b9e3_b6bb_8853" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/q3Zi9PYEuWJz_9hemhFwzxw_XoXzuLG9GK_xghJ7Lm2BL8gLp8l_kAKAB6E" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 441px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">I had cut a small snowflake, from adhesive backed vinyl, with my cutter and stuck it to a piece of copper sheet that I had prepared. I covered the back and edges with packing tape and made a tab of packing tape that I could use to lift my copper piece into and out of the acid bath. The snowflake sticker and tape would protect the copper where they were placed. The uncovered areas would be etched by the acid. A bucket of water and baking soda were standing by to neutralize the acid when it was done. Since I was going to need good ventilation, and it was raining outside, I worked in the greenhouse, with window and both doors open and fan on. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_3f07_d1d5_c415_5359" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/XTO4AdSdJ__-Ri4xZ1b5vYEFCgr4ODQ7ogMXF0I2QSBb7StU5GB7YzLAWkQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 564px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">I prepared the mixture of hydrogen peroxide and Muriatic acid in my glass bowl, then carefully lowered the copper piece into the acid mixture. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_7cc5_e8fe_b253_f218" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/vu_CexLc-fsk52XlGpKjzOInCIruPepadeZWlxk01V_5kdEUAp8gmWuPKss" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 501px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Soon I could see bubbles forming on the surface and the acid mixture began to turn green. After about 25 minutes I pulled it out and dunked it into the soda and water to neutralize and stop the action. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_96bf_e4c1_991d_dfbb" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/PuhKYYSEENq3fNyKhF0sdSR8bJRbcDehKcq4y1NHUUaTQAZnnOLndBx2FEU" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 498px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_66c6_ce1_aa5a_3176" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/iD5gJwZKdyXFCGMK5a4tD3Gs-I-AVg4pHN-zxYNUYY9vn24x4DpI6jsLLA4" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 504px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_8e2b_c358_df91_848c" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/3wpw5NMlKPtsAI8AL2lGkwXLHOL7yA7T82iJuhC01o0Pn6pqmsYwyuFO0Oc" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 500px; height: auto;"><br><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I dried it off, cleaned up all the etching stuff, and went to the studio where I painted it with ammonia and salt to give the etched area a little patina. When that dried I removed the tape and the snowflake vinyl, which did not come off easily. I used a pin to pick it off a chunk at a time. It is interesting. I expected the etched area to be a little rough, but it’s smooth and lower than the unetched places. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_d517_e44e_552a_e27f" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/9ZpIrYp_OwuuFp3cyYni2h6486k3oa_9JL309g4XwXIPb4zBGQC1gujtYXg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 499px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Then I polished it with fine steel wool and I’m pretty pleased!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_fb12_ff64_696f_f528" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/wci_kkXz-GoWhvQXyF9Rr5O-1_xyx2jhLcLFGGoWYJJcCwkof0aTHvLj92E" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 499px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I’m looking forward to more! I’m excited and not so scared of acid anymore. I am an old dog, but I can still learn something new. And my little copper snowflake? I think I’ll put a pin back on it and pin it to my coat. </span></div></div></div></div></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-48163240779805625652019-11-25T00:48:00.001-08:002019-11-25T00:48:04.772-08:00 Rising Star—Me?<div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_833d_baee_f284_22e" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/H9HgZJcQ52dwZqTRzG2MJagN6VJ35MIbaSk_0-ck0zJ5nwd_QtZuJB6NN-I" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Forty-some years ago, while my children slept, late at night, I would spread my fabrics and sketchbooks out on my dining room table and work on the designs in my head, for ways to combine art and design and fabrics. I wasn’t quite sure where I was headed, but I had seen things others were doing that inspired me and though I had studied drawing and painting and printmaking, I knew that fabric was my medium. Little did I suspect how long I would follow that path or where it would lead. Then it was just my late night guilty indulgence that fitted in between children and family and daytime job and kept me feeling that my education had not been in vain and my creative side was still alive somewhere inside me. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Early last spring I got a call from Becky Navarro, the head of special exhibits at the International Quilt Festival, inviting me to share a special exhibit with</span><a href="https://mariashell.com/" id="id_9ef8_25b0_7994_b670"> Maria Shell</a><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">, a well-know quilt artist from Alaska and my fellow member of the Cloth in Common, International Art Quilt Group. We had been selected as “Rising Stars.” I was amazed and confused and very honored. Rising Star—me? It made me laugh! It has been a very long, slow rise if that is the case. And never have I thought of myself as a Star. Maybe a lifelong learner, maybe lucky, maybe persistent. I’m quiet and spend my days pretty much alone in my studio in the woods, and I’m 73 years old for goodness sake (!) but if they want to call me a rising star, I think I’ll take it.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">So I arrived in Houston late on October 30th, shared a ride to my hotel with two quilters from Connecticut and checked into my hotel room, with a view of the stadium out my window, where the last game of the World Series was playing out down below. I texted this photo to my son, who I knew was watching the game on TV back in Oregon. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_57f4_ecf4_b43d_57d4" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/bDLxY_WcgcH-TrDMqpXqq_NQRpWjcHB3LN_f1RgLGYIVctFWeHTuU02HyT0" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">It all seemed a little surreal. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">I headed to the convention center the next morning where I was taken to our exhibit. My quilts had been shipped months before and were beautifully hung, with Maria’s in our exhibit. Here’s the view of the exhibits, from above. Our exhibit is somewhere out there in the middle. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_d401_c39e_289_2e4" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/eybFcTxeg4YP3LepDbCKzULkYiwKpkNAFiIt-PbXjc07BJtI34EBgbzfxyE" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">It was beautiful! Twenty three of my quilts. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_bc1f_3e17_a961_96d4" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/yZ6xOw_bWI3-w04-uRfclfumkNJ8WyXOxqaQgXYj7RPGbMaBH9USQHB6ePQ" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_b15f_54a8_67f1_2d36" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/l30mh6KmapbP3rs6EzCgJzZIeWYq24YHMYWapokZl-hQa5Z15o6kuD4eyDA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">For the next three days I wandered through the vast center, viewing all the exhibits and periodically returning to our exhibit to visit with people who stopped to look and to give several scheduled gallery talks. Though the QuiltFestival is primarily a show, rather than a sale, quilts can be listed for sale. To my very great and pleasant surprise, 9 of my quilts were sold. I had the pleasure of meeting some of the new owners. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_f83d_3f42_c52c_447" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/3wbxZ5MveL1kA3mUxXDfQlAInw-i9Pf4y0oMRx3taKz-WtXvJ77ViR7hOMg" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">This is the lady who purchased “The Moon is a Mirror”</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_15b7_95ee_5ccf_d21b" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/RLNi04JbaEyHnjLj6r52M3KQbxRaXRT1vXMG-w8_Ww2hXMW2Sfr-AO8xUEk" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">And this man, who lives in Utah told me he he knew exactly where this scenery is </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">and he purchased “Utah Train” as a gift for his wife. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">The annual International Quilt Festival is held every year in Houston, is the largest exhibit of quilts, both traditional and art quilts, in the world, and draws thousands of visitors from around the world each year. Part of the thrill for me was seeing old friends, meeting online friends going back twenty years, sometimes for the first time face to face, and meeting quilters and artists whose work I have long admired. Every time I entered or left the convention hall I stopped to admire the exquisite display of blue and white quilts hung in honor of the 45th, sapphire anniversary of International Quilt Festival. It was breathtaking and a tribute to the history of what began as “women’s work” of creating beauty in the useful objects of home and now encompasses both that sturdy tradition as well as its evolution into the realm of fine art. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_5128_6607_3892_c430" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-XsiubRukVpvOebKcHrGPMTIhqrJAssGE3FOu5m0RGwejccioNC7h8ISNAM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">As I made my way around the exhibited work I marveled at the creativity, beauty, humor, heartfelt messages and all the glorious color. Making my way around the work presented by our professional organization, SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates) I was enjoying, especially, the retrospective exhibit called “Layered and Stitched” when I came upon a quilt by my first art quilt hero,</span><a href="http://www.jeanraylaury.com/quilts.htm" id="id_cb1f_c350_7e2a_229f"> Jean Ray Laury</a>,<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"> “Listen to Your Mother.” It was her work, 40 years ago, that showed me what was possible for me. She is gone, but it warmed my heart, and almost made me cry</span><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">, to see her cheerful, witty work lives on and still delights viewers at the biggest quilt show in the world. I was proud to know my work was hanging alongside hers. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_596_a7cb_12ac_aa2a" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/9v3zKFTu9YUmqVrtOy6NbgUCWT9mwR4dQDQuBPWQ-KYt6-1t9DBDNVnHjcA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">The whole thing is now a very sweet memory—something I will be forever grateful for. The people that put on this amazing show are the best of the best. Every detail is perfect and they are all the nicest, most efficient, most really, really good at their jobs people you will ever encounter. They did it. They made me feel like a Star. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Thank you. </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div></div></div></div></div></div> Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-78249135011155090372019-08-06T14:45:00.001-07:002019-08-06T18:00:32.535-07:00Returning to ItalyYes, I did begin to blog about our trip to Italy in April and then months just got away from me, as they seem to do more and more, but I have returned and I’m remembering our first trip to Italy in 1972 and our return to Italy this year, 47 years later. <div><br></div><div>In 1972 Ray and I had been married for less than two years and had little money but a burning desire to see Europe. Ray was teaching and I had accepted a teaching job for that fall, so that summer we were unencumbered, had saved as much as possible of our meager paychecks and we had a plan. We ordered a new Volkswagon Beetle, bright yellow, that we picked up at the factory in Germany and bought camping gear in Berlin. It was a grand summer, and by the time we got to Italy we were pretty skilled travelers. We were thrilled by Rome and Venice and Pisa and Florence, so when we got to Milan it seemed a bit drab by comparison. And it was raining. I clearly remember the grandeur of the cathedral in Milan and the fact that it was black. </div><div><br></div><div>But it is not black. And probably never was. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_d572_b591_a444_3fa2" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1FwMJjDjIDzNdra6UxGQ5BRuxTpVA4QsI" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">When we saw it again in April I couldn’t believe my memory could have been so faulty. I took to the internet and learned it was cleaned between our visits. Old photos showed it dark and dirty, but not the black I remembered. Maybe it was the rain? Maybe it was my brain. Nevertheless, a magnificent piece of art and architecture. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">We were not camping this time, but staying in a modest, but quiet and comfortable Air BnB in a nice neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_8f12_de40_6875_2b65" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1Kv8f1Bhk4iIOpgJIWMGe1ibpeB3N5YQ3" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br><font size="4"><img id="id_e6d1_9d0a_137b_8176" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1ICO8feuWA-hQgwvaoFbcIkjVYddT1V4-" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"></font><br><br><div style="text-align: left;">Just down the street was a charming coffee bar near the train station and our short train ride into the center of Milan. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Despite its ancient, grand architecture, Milan is a very modern city, the centers of business and innovative design. We were, coincidentally there during “Design Week” and got to enjoy some exciting special exhibits as we walked around the city. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img id="id_b2df_e016_ed5f_632c" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1--f396M8UzM-lcoYyqQ9Z1AgEZ9fZNs8" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_c8c8_ae21_1e32_f716" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1p9akEaayvCH6xnXLOxJ7qe6Mp9JAi-P_" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>Store windows were filled with beautiful displays. <br><br><img id="id_746_83c9_827d_4df1" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=11g4Mqj2OYHrpciyiJtuNLa_MSWWCZ8vM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_6e00_97c_f36c_41b4" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1hDf5KEV8eYlwthAuHN7HP0Pw2ACi_nEx" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br>This big public sculpture of a threaded needle (sorry, I cut off the top) pays honor to Milan’s fashion industry. <br><img id="id_bcd1_2561_67dd_5bd1" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1NOYYr7IzteCbNKZsZ1x3EYO4CI8pWuFA" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>I remembered the beautiful covered shopping gallery across from the cathedral from 47 years ago. It was filled with small shops. I bought a book in English on our first trip—“The Exorcist”—then scared myself silly reading it at night in our tent! There are no sweet little bookshops there now, only Designer showrooms. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img id="id_3570_9068_fd6_a713" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=18nNEroCWkpFxBboIp_t3yp9Q7GQmEerd" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_4c6c_805f_5811_407b" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=15bAqEIjAFYnKrfZkiiW2uGFtEvqQpN3d" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br>We spent our last day in Milan wandering through the Monumental Cemetary. We missed that back in ‘72 and were glad we found it this time. Incredibly moving and beautiful. And, like our long ago time in Milan, it was raining. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img id="id_138c_4f9_9f50_a4" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1yqRqNvrwtQp_cWN_-Th7eBqdBHexOaXM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><img src="blob:app:///7f48fc85-91f2-4752-b849-c7655710751a" id="id_791c_7535_5cbc_5289" style="width: 20px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_c98_1857_4407_3a2c" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=14esUyt3BanxtrXmlNJ2PytNruTpcdcel" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_4c8f_5f2e_86d2_6fb6" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1Q7-megel-2NyODxSDKkhvxtn6Qkz4-fe" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_e972_2468_405e_d57b" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=15Byf6Fm_DTIn1azOnOuPj7LN5hCbeKai" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_9f2e_f7c9_f67_c3ed" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1RhLcSY8xE-zSPuSFGXonk2l9WFgoclwM" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><img id="id_f8a7_365a_4192_1ffb" src="https://alexdenk.eu/blogtouch?id=1xF38TvusCxfN9Siryv9-MIHCiYRAsQb-" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 746px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div></div>Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16634800.post-45163265785878839762019-05-05T11:16:00.001-07:002019-05-05T11:37:54.025-07:00Last month we went to Italy...We take a “big” trip almost every year. For several years now we’ve gone with organized tours, which have been wonderful, but this year we decided to revert to our old way of traveling on our own. Our first trip together was a summer in Europe in 1972, when we bought a Volkswagen Beetle in Germany and drove it around Europe. It was a great trip, despite our being young and naive and making some mistakes. We had our copy of “Europe on $5 a Day,” our car, a tent and a sleeping bag. We survived, had a wonderful time and came home with our appetites whetted for seeing more of the world.<br>
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One of our favorite places in 1972 was Italy, so 47 years later, it seemed like it was time to return. We would revisit a couple of favorite cities and explore some new ones.<br>
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From recent trips we’ve learned that flying from Oregon to Europe in one continuous go is brutal, especially for old people, so it seemed prudent to break it up. Maybe a day in New York, coming and going would help. (It did!). When I learned, months ago, that the Brooklyn Museum would be hosting the exhibit of Frida Kahlo’s work, historic photos, clothing and other artifacts at the same time we were to be there it seemed like it was all meant to be. I am such a fan! So we booked a hotel in Brooklyn near the museum and arrived on a crisp spring day.<br>
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Brooklyn was lovely. We walked around, enjoying the charming neighborhoods, then found the museum, where we waited for our ticket time in the vast lobby.<br>
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<br></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Frida exhibit was wonderful! Photography was not allowed inside the exhibit until until the very end where you could take a photo with Frida, so I will just direct you to the Brooklyn Museum page about the exhibit, which gives a good overview <a href="https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/frida_kahlo" id="id_4a86_a58f_614c_c30b">here</a>. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">We left the museum, found a late lunch, retrieved our luggage from our hotel then headed to the airport for our overnight flight to Milan. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Goodbye Brooklyn! Goodbye Frida! Our visit was short, but oh, so sweet...</div></div>
Terry Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16650965451863656517noreply@blogger.com0