the detritus of creativity

there was a two-day flea market in our little town this weekend. apparently they do it every year. it seemed less like a flea market, actually, and more like a garage sale to which the whole town was invited. it was well-organized - with couches in one row, coffee tables in another, old computers and ancient VCRs over in one corner, odd appliances grouped, books stacked and dishes sorted into glasses, plates, cups and vases. there was even a massive table of old flowerpots. much of it had that air of sadness about it that flea markets and antique stores sometimes have...unloved, unstylish dishes and chairs, stained cushions that had seen better days, dusty cross-stitch pictures of some obscure church somewhere, but here and there, there were a few treasures.

i tried to buy just the little lino cutter above (i loved that it was in its original box), but the guy in charge of that area (those working the market were strangely clad in white doctor's coats, which is especially odd since i've never seen a doctor in this country wearing one) insisted that i take the entire box it was in. as you can see, there are a number of linocuts (and even a couple of woodcuts) with a 70s feel. there is also a collection of old bottles of paint and dyes - all dried up and not usable, but fetching nonetheless (photos in the near future). it ended up being quite a treasure for 50DKK ($10).

as regular readers well know, i think a lot about the evidence of creativity, but digging through the box of lino-cut goodies makes me feel a little bit sad somehow. looking at the stamps someone spent so much time carving, seeing the dusty bottles of dried inks and fabric dyes, long forgotten - like so much detritus washed up on a beach. i wonder what was made with these? fabrics? cards? prints? gifts? when did they get put on some shelf in a garage? how did they become forgotten? someone once spent time and care and imagination, only for it to end in a dusty box in a room full of other things someone no longer wanted.

but the bright side is that it's true what they say, that one person's trash is another's treasure. i'll have to see if i can do something fun with these stamps, to bring them back to life again. i'm pretty happy that doctor coat-clad guy made me take the whole box.

sense of place: randbøldal museum

a bright, crisp autumn day. highly volatile, changeable weather. sunshine one minute and rain the next. wind racing clouds across the sky. you have to capture those moments of light when they happen, because they'll be gone in the next second.

there's something about a little museum that's so personal and accessible. something in the very air at randbøldal that whispers of the weavers who came before, even if the looms aren't the same ones - the sounds of the tramping pedals are the same, the voices talking together echo of the voices that came before. the shelves filled with naturally-dyed yarns, mushrooms ready for dyeing the next batch. as true a copy of the clothing worn by the egtved pige as can be woven today. in a little museum you can come close to all of these things.

you can go on a guided walk in the woods, looking for mushrooms and then you can see for yourself the changes wrought to the yarn by their steamy mushroom bath, maybe even be allowed to stir it a bit yourself. at a small museum, the experience is something you can fully appreciate. it doesn't try to do too much, it is what it is and isn't pretending to be more.

in these times when everything has to be an event of sorts, an experience, sometimes the best experience is the one that happens inside of you when you encounter a place where it's still and calm and relaxed. where there's time for people to tell you stories. and there's time for you to try things for yourself. to become part of the tradition in a sense, take part in the history. to weave your own meaning.

it's definitely the volunteers that make such a place so special - with their stories and their philosophies and all of the knowledge they have to give. i am happy to be a volunteer in training (truth be told, i'm mostly the photographer), learning from these lovely women (and men). hearing their stories and soaking in the history in this beautiful little hidden spot.

*  *  *

if you want to know a bit more, i have written previously about the magical little bitty museum tucked away in randbøldal. it's where i first encountered weaving, which still speaks to some deep part of my soul.

on reading crap novels. and then not.

i have a problem. it seems pretty insurmountable. i've lived with it for years and i doubt i'll ever overcome it. once i start a novel, i am compelled to finish it, no matter how crappy it is. recent cases in point: iain banks' dead air. jennifer egan's a visit from the good squad. anything by hanne vibeke holst (i've recently read dronningeofret and kongemordet (HVH has her finger on the pulse of danish politics, but as a writer is somewhere between dan brown and steig larsson - in other words - mediocre at best).

it's actually rather strange, since what i studied for rather longer than most was literature. so what is it about a crappy novel that makes me unable to stop reading it when i discover it's crap?  why is it that a conscious awareness that life is too short doesn't even make me stop. in fact, i'll stay up late, frantically reading, rushing towards the finish. just to get it over with. why, oh why do i do this when there are so many good books in the world that warrant my attention?

when i think about authors that have truly captured my attention and deserved to be read to the end and then read again with a kind of manic attention, only two come to mind. only two authors have written stories and created worlds so compelling that i felt quite literally sucked into them...a part of the book and the universe it described. books i looked up from and was surprised to find myself in my own home (or on a plane or in a hotel room or in the car or the bathtub). worlds so deep that i felt i lost a little bit of myself there. and i mourned quietly when i was finished with the book and found that i wasn't inhabiting that world at all, except in the pieces of it i indelibly carry with me, because it was so well-written.

so why is it that when books don't do that, don't even come close to that, i still can't put them aside?

maybe it's because it's so seldom it happens.

there's only one dostoevsky and only one murakami. the rest don't even come close.

a thrifty swap

do you love combing antique stores, flea markets and second-hand shops for treasures? if so, the op shop swap just might be for you. check it out! jody from reinventing fashion is hosting. you'll swap some thrifted goodies with a like-minded thrifter, just in time for christmas!  you sign up on flickr, but you can read a bit more about it on jody's blog.

and a note for those of us not versed in down under english, op shop is a charity shop (i admit i had to look it up).

sign up and then get out there and start thrifting! now you have an excuse.

the epitome of cute

i think sweetpea (who is under the impression it's spelled sweetpee) may be even cuter than the baby hedgehog. especially when she scratches her ear with her back leg (i shall get a photo of that as well).

new stitched-up photos now available!

just listed in MPC - the shop - a batch of stitched-up photos - get them while they're hot!

and now you can even "like" MPC - the Shop on Facebook

(yes, i finally broke down and made a page.)

oh, and if you're looking to secure a christmas present, i just put my whirlygig snuggle quilt on sale.
just making room for more fun stuff in the near future.

evidence of creativity so far in 2011

after getting that little saddle thing off my chest (which incidentally made me feel much better (and that's actually what this whole blogging thing is about)), i decided to turn to something more positive...so i went through my flickr and made some mosaics featuring all of the acts of creativity i've been involved in so far in 2011. some overall themes...quilts (7 of them! which surprised me a little bit) and food feature heavily. plus i counted eggs and honey and baby bunnies, because although i didn't lay the eggs or make the honey or have the bunnies myself, they are definitely acts of creativity to which i have been party. and i have been making a lot of yummy things with those eggs and that honey.

it all makes me want to finish 2011 even stronger than i started it. so standby, i've got something fun up my sleeve and you can be a part of it.