Edward's Place 2011.

I was fortunate enough to be invited back to Springfield, IL for the Edwards Place Fine Art Fair this year, and let me tell you, it was a blast.  It's been a week and a half since I returned to Milwaukee, and I finally got around to putting all my pics on my computer.  Unfortunately, my extreme narcissism means I only have pictures of my booth, but it's generally bad form to take pictures of other artist's work without permission, so any other photos I may or may not have taken won't be making any internet appearances.

 The shadowy figure back there is our own Megan.

I used to do shows like this on the regular, but the last three years I've done very few, mostly because when I finished school and got a real job, I told myself I no longer had the time to do them.  A sad fact, really.  The show promoters asked me to come with items under $10, which might seem like a tall order, but really was not.

I had an absolutely wonderful time.  It's hands-down the best staffed, most hospitable show I've ever done, and I sincerely hope I get a chance to do it again.  The real attraction of the weekend for me, though, wasn't the show.  It was seeing Megan!

We spent about 86% of our free time in Hancock Fabrics, discussing her quilt project, possible dress projects and the two throw pillows on her sofa with split seams.  Basically, it was heaven.

The most commented-on item during the show was probably my recycled game card notebooks.  Lots of giggles.

On Getting It Together.

I've had a nice weekend.  Not a great weekend, or an exciting one, but two days off where I could do whatever I wanted.  And what I wanted to do was nap, watch Bridesmaids, go shopping with a friend and eat a hamburger.  And guess what?  I did all of those things.

There are some things I should have done--like the dishes, which have been piling up all week.  I didn't take out the trash, or do a load of laundry, or even press a button on the roomba so it would clean the floors.  I didn't finish unpacking my car from the art show I was in last weekend.  I spent two days sleeping in, watching movies, and taking baths.  I didn't cook anything for the upcoming week.  I sauteed some frozen pierogis and left the dirty pan on the stove.

I'm sure my mental block about housework isn't specific to me, but I do find it worrying that my dishes are done so infrequently.  I leave my laundry until the day I run out of underpants, then furiously do four loads.  I literally have to push a button to clean the floor, and yet it never occurs to me to do it until it's already after midnight and too late to vacuum if I still want to be on good terms with the neighbors.

I seem to always find the time for something I want to do.  Can I go to five goodwills in an afternoon?  Absolutely.  I can also watch the same movie three times in a row.  But I can't go into the kitchen to do some dishes during the third replay, because I will miss something.

So this weekend, though relaxing, was not productive.  Hopefully tomorrow I can get it together and make my apartment look more like a dwelling, and less like an episode of Hoarders in the making.

Fabric Obsessed

As you may have guessed, I have recently been re-infected with a very serious affliction.  Fabric Obsession/Compulsion.  I can no longer help but steal moments out of my work day to lust after various sewing blogs and DIY projects.  I spend my lunch break at work searching for vintage dress patterns, fabric sales, and even craft give-aways on craigslist.  My daydreams revolve around what I'm going to do to certain Salvation Army dresses to make them the perfect outfit.  Will I hike up this hem?  Could I lower that neckline?   How sweet would that dress be with red tights, mary janes and a wide headband? I literally drool over these thoughts.  Even now, I'm debating whether or not I have enough time to drop by the thrift store that's going out of business and is just five minutes out of my way if drop by before I go home...  My name is Megan, and I have a problem.

The double problem is that, like everything else I do, I have gotten so excited about the idea of making my own clothes and re-purposing vintage items, I have not actually finished my current project.  I am supposed to be in the final(-ish) phases of making a personal quilt.  And this is not just any quilt.  This is a marital quilt.  Well, ok, sort of a premarital quilt since I am moving into my fiance's house sometime this fall and we're not actually getting married until May.  But the quilt does not have a den-of-sin motif, more like a rainbow-of-our-love motif.  At least that's what I think I was going for.  It's pretty simple in terms of pattern-- just the plain 12 inch squares (and rather hodge-podge at that), but there are lots of memories sewn into it.  There's the striped sweater piece I wore when I used to work at the bookstore all the time, the green fabric from the hippie dress I got at Penny Lane and wore all through high school, the screen-printed t-shirt I made while working at a summer camp in Maine that has a line of a Mary Oliver poem on it.  This poem actually:

When the Roses Speak, I Pay Attention

“As long as we are able to be extravagant we will be

Hugely and damply extravagant. Then we will drop

Foil by foil to the ground. This is our unalterable task,

And we do it joyfully.”

And they went on. “Listen,

The heart-shackles are not, as you think,

Death, illness, pain,

Unrequited hope, not loneliness, but

Lassitude, rue, vainglory, fear, anxiety, selfishness.”

Their fragrance all the while rising from their blind bodies, making me

Spin with joy. 

Isn't that lovely?  I think so.  She has another called Praying that I think is just wonderful too.

Praying

 It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

 Nice, right?  Anyway, I'm supposed to be concentrating on finishing this quilt for my future husband and I, and I want to, believe me I do, but I also want to start my dress patterns, and shorten the vintage dress I bought last year and still haven't worn, and I definitely want to stop by the clearance thrift shop.  I'm not a total quilting failure though.  I did get the entire front and back of the quilt assembled, including the gorgeous gray and rose border, so really it's just a matter of assemblage and, you know, the actual quilting part.  How hard could that be, right?  Right?  I promise: pictures soon. 

Semi-invited.

 I have been invited to more weddings in the past year than I had been invited to in my whole life.  It’s a happy predicament to be in—seeing your friends find and celebrate love and commitment should never be anything but joyous.

I’m far from an etiquette maven, and in general am not too concerned over the fiddly rules of politeness.  If you’re nice to me and I’m nice to you and nobody’s toes are getting stepped on, I’m not going to get flustered about the number of forks on the table or that your kid called me Anna instead of Miss Ladypants.* 

But I’ve been the recipient of some non-standard invites that makes me wonder why an invitation was extended at all:

Ceremony-only or Reception-only invitations.

I see why, from a bride’s perspective, it’s a convenient way to invite everyone who wants to come without having to make the sacrifices that come with large guest lists (venue size, general intimacy, cost, entertainment, lodging, transportation).  But as a guest, I wonder why I’m welcome at one and not the other. 

Being excluded from the reception says that I’m there to help fill the church.

Being excluded from the ceremony says I’m not close enough to you to share in the moment, but can I please keep your Great Aunt Mildred (GAM) company so she doesn’t hit the DJ with her cane for playing the rap music and yell about why is there no goddamned sugar free dessert option, don’t you know she has diabetes?!

I mean, I’d be glad to distract your GAM from all the things going on that she hates for six hours.  I’d offer to find her some sugar-free jello (GAMs looooooove sugar-free jello).  But don’t ask me to do it unless I also get to see you walk down that aisle. **

*not my real last name.

** Unless your venue is really really small and only immediate family can fit, and all the other guests are similarly excluded.  Or if I work with you and you feel obligated to invite the whole office, but you don’t really want any of us there.  If you do that, chances are none of us will show up, except weird Lou, who we will send as an ambassador to give you the gift we all chipped in on.  Or if you elope then have the reception at a later date.  Or if you discuss it with me beforehand, and in return for GAMsitting, you will be my slave for a day and make me cornmuffins.

GAM.