Tuesday, 18 July 2017

Fibres West 2017

Fibres West is a week-long conference for textile and fibre enthusiasts held approximately every two years. This year there were ten national and international tutors, auditorium talks, classes, presentations, traders, displays, a 'bizarre bazaar' and so very much more.

I've actually been struggling to write a little something about Fibres West.   I know.....ridiculous for someone who loves a chat.  It was just such a wonderful experience that anything I write somehow seems a little bit lame or woody.  'Woody' is a word isn't it?

Comments like "Profound", "Life changing" and "Soul enriching" keep pouring out of my mouth any time someone asks about my week off - but actually putting my Fibres West experience into words has been quite hard.

I had a whole six days in Sandra Brownlee's 'Tactile Journals and the Written Word' class.  It wasn't so much a technique based class.  It was more about finding and bringing out our soul's desire.....see what I mean? Sandra's classes have a reputation for being life changing.

We spent the week working with our journals, ourselves, our thoughts and dreams, our goals for both our professional and personal lives, our love for textiles and our absolute thankfulness to be able to have so much unpressured time with other creative women.

We talked, laughed, cried, listened, walked, hugged, meditated, breathed, ate (lots), and appreciated

I met beautiful, courageous, creative and kind women -

and luxuriated in the peaceful, tranquil atmosphere of Muresk.

Sandra's journals are legendary -

as are her 'clothesline talks'.

We studied bookbinding and journaling methods of both Sandra's and other artists' work.

Absolutely exquisite binding on an old cut down phone book.

We worked in our own journals each day.  Shared readings, thoughts, written words, laughs, triumphs and discoveries.

We journaled after our walking meditations, being encouraged to write how we felt rather than what we saw.

Here's one of my pages.

Sandra always being ever present, 

patient, kind

and lots of fun!

Our class display on the last evening gave no real indication of the depth of transformation most of us had experienced during this week.

I know I'm richer, calmer, empowered and changed.

Thank you Sandra Brownlee.

Post script:

"It'll be cold" they said.

"Oh I'll just take a couple of singlets, it'll be ok" I replied.

Wednesday, 31 May 2017

Me Made May

This is the third year in a row I have taken part in 'Me-Made-May'.  

Me-Made-May runs for the whole of the month of May and is a challenge designed to encourage people who sew, knit, crochet or refashion garments for themselves, to wear and love them more.  It's also an opportunity to discuss fast fashion, handmade and slow stitch.....especially when someone comments "Where did you get that dress?"  (I'm sure it was well meant.....I think).

You can read more about the challenge over on So, Zo...What do you know?

This year I'm really happy to report that I managed to wear something handmade every single day of May. Some days I had to resort to handmade leggings though as I had run out of clothes and my brooches had been 'done to death'.  Thankfully I wasn't ever asked to show off my leggings.

Here's my latest 'make'.  Another Esme tunic from Lotta Jansdotter's Everyday Style.  I really love her style.  

I think my hair is even starting to look like hers.  

Sorry Lotta.  

This dress is a touch short but that was intentional so that I can wear it over jeans for the Winter.

The fabric is linen from Spotlight.  I just love linen but there wasn't a lot to choose from when I bought this. Only about three plains and this print in either cream or navy.  I thought this was so gorgeous on the roll and couldn't wait to make it up, but now I get the feeling that it's slightly reminiscent of a 1970's sofa.  

I'm really giving the von Trapp family a run for their money now, after one of my other dresses was inadvertently made from curtain fabric.

I honestly don't know how people stand in front of a self timer and look normal.  I've tried to take my lead from other blogs I follow where the girls look so natural, carefree and happy.  Here I am, finally happy (sort of) with my plastic smile......but check out the feet!

Plus I look like I'm hiding a couple of wads of $50 notes in my pockets.  Ha ha....I wish.  

That'd make me happy wouldn't it?!

Monday, 1 May 2017

The ibis story.

We had such a fabulous time in Coral Bay, but I must admit it was lovely to feel the cool fresh air as we drove back into town.  Arriving home is always a bit of a relief really, after all the adventures on the sand dunes, the scorching sunny days, bugs biting anything that's exposed, grasshopper plagues and just too much food and alcohol, it's good to get home safely in one piece.

As we pulled into our driveway it really was lovely to experience the beautiful half light of dusk and see such a generous sprinkling of rose petals strewn across the driveway.  Awwww.....Autumn is here.

Waking up in my own bed is a bit of a novelty.   A big yawn and stretch.......followed by a leisurely wander out to the garden in the early morning sun.


What's that?!

We have a scarecrow in our front yard?  With a lampshade for a head?

Oh.  I get it.  This is a dream.  Scarecrows, birds, rose petals, alcohol, sunshine, fun.

Erm.......maybe not.

They're not rose petals on the driveway either.

It's poop.  Ibis poop.  Set like concrete.

And the roof of the house looks like it's been snowing.


Our yard has been taken over by a flock of seven renegade ibis.  Our neighbours have been doing whatever they can to deter them but apparently ibis can be very obstinate indeed.

They like it at our house.

They even like the backyard scarecrow.  They just sit on the pool fence and stare at him with glee in their little black twinkling eyes.

I have no frogs left in my pond either.  Ibis beaks are long and deadly.

I do however have friendly, creative neighbours and a willing and enthusiastic husband.

So this is the latest in hand crafted ibis deterrent technology.

Mick races out the door at a moments notice (quite often only in his 'shorts') and runs around the yard yelling like a madman, banging and crashing his 'ibis deterring hardware'.  

It sounds like a corroboree.

Looks like one too.

Isn't retirement supposed to be calm, peaceful, serene, full of meaning and fulfilment?  A simple life?