My granny was a maker... and the nature of fame.

This making bug that inhabits our family has come down the lines from way back. My granny was an amazing potter, painter and silversmith. She made a green, enamel spoon which I hang on my wall and my cousin tells me she made pesto back in the seventies. She had little pottery jars around the house filled with treasures and didn't mind that the first thing I would do on arrival was to sort through them all. She had a dog called Fred and used to find pieces of wood that looked like him. In the laundry she had great big, green glass fisherman buoys and along the back glassed porch she had sea grass matting. In her garden were fat roses and snapdragons. She lived across the road from a milk bar and they stocked lollies. Above the counter was a photo of Mel Gibson hugging the milk bar family. They said he was nice. When she hugged us she used to rub our backs. My sister thought she was checking for bra straps. She wasn't. It's just how she hugged. Her husband died from a long, drawn out illness and she raised her five children alone and ran a farm. It was only when she was sixty after a heart attack when she discovered her abilities for creating anything she set her mind to. And for twentyish years she spent everyday creating. In our family she is famous and as important an artist as Picasso. We display her works wherever we can and she will never be forgotten.

Our Softie Robot...

Archie was having another day at home, more a recovery day really as his temperature is back down to normal again. A plumping back up to good health day. I had been looking at some beautiful sites softies central being one of them and felt inspired to do some crafting with the little wee fella.

Archie was very excited and took over design team's helm. I have to admit I did the sewing but he was in charge of the whole look and the colours..... THE COLOURS.... I couldn't believe it... his sense of colour is amazing. I know it is easy to think I did a lot of steering but it came from him. Mind you, this is a boy who loves to sleep under a floral duvet as he considers himself to be (like the men in Jonno's family), a wonderful gardener.

The robot itself is pretty rough as I was sewing under impatient eyes (and I am not a softies maker) so all in all, Archie and I came out the other side extremely happy campers. And it's cuddly too. I think it passes.

By the way, the crochet parts were rejects from other projects. I have quite a few of them and am so glad they now have a purpose in life.

Yellow

It just makes you feel good.

Crochet Frames

You can tell by the photos how gloomy the light was yesterday morning but so, so cosy inside. I surrounded myself with origami paper, washi paper, watercolour board and watercolour paintings and set to work making the little pieces I mentioned yesterday.

Then last night when the boys were safely tied to their beds I began the process of crocheting frames for the pictures which wasn't that easy as I was in convulsions of laughter watching Will Ferell's 'Stepbrothers'. I can't resist a manchild.

A sick child and recovering husband are on the menu today so a very quiet day in our house. I think my nursing duties might include curling up on the couch with Archie, a DVD and some crochet. Hugo seems to be entertaining himself outside, gumboots, puddles, bowls, spoons and boats. I guess I could throw some food out to him when he begins to look a little savage.

The Beginnings of Little Things.

Some little collages are about to grow crochet frames.

New(ish) colour combinations.

Sometimes I feel as though I have been staring at my basket of wool for too long and I am beginning to tire of the faces looking back at me. That's usually about the time I embark on a trip to town to visit my favourite shop, '11th Ave Wool'. However, keeping the rest of the world company, we are having to tighten the purse strings (I wish I had a purse with strings) and limit these exhilarating kinds of excursions.

Last night when I began to hit the brick wall of hexagoning (which is an essential part of the process otherwise I would never get to bed) I had a chance encounter with some very soft colours and suddenly, with energy renewed, went a little free-form. I am now feeling pretty happy with this new combination and can't wait to do a bit more circle work.

By the way, is there anybody out there who also thinks electricity is really a scientific word for magic?

My Creative Space... night and day.

I feel so good. From the tips of my toes to my innermost cadbury creme egg soul I am tingling with the satisfaction that comes from tidying up my craft table. In fact, I tackled the whole upstairs room and turned it into some sort of grown-up haven that you imagine in your wildest dreams. When I ascend upstairs, I really am travelling upwards to the heavens. It is glorious.
I thought I had better include my night-time creative space too, the turquoise table that is providing the legs for my hexagon blanket. Each night as I sit down on the big, blue couch, I feel as though I am embarking on a giant and extremely tactile puzzle (except nicer than a puzzle because you know that one day it will leap up and enfold you in its warm embrace and let's face it, that is something a puzzle will never do).

For more creative spaces, disapperate (I don't have time to look up the official Harry Potter spelling) here.