digesting

i'm uncharacteristically silent. still savoring and digesting blog camp 3.0. the last of the blog campers departed this morning. it feels quiet and a bit lonely around here now. the energy level has settled down to a dull roar again, from the extreme heights it achieved on saturday evening.  i have a million thoughts and feelings about it all, but i'm definitely still mulling them over.

why is it that our words about the way in which we think our thoughts are food-related? savoring, digesting, mulling, chewing...as if thoughts are ingested and turned into nourishment for our souls.

my soul definitely feels nourished by blog camp 3.0. more about how when i'm done digesting it all....

blog camp 3.0

it's nearly midnight and everything is as ready as it's going to be at blog camp headquarters. the blue room could use a vacuuming over by the wood burning stove (those really make a mess) and the last of the sheets are in the dryer, so they'll be put on beds in the morning, but otherwise, we're ready. and much more relaxed than earlier today, when we were knee-deep in computer problems (the iMac is a hardware issue, that much we now know, and it's gone to the apple hospital) and lists of food preparations. but things have a way of falling into place. the fridge is full of antipasti for tomorrow evening and there's way less pressure when you've already met almost everyone and feel like elizabeth is an old friend, despite the fact that you've never met her.

so i intend to take it all in a very relaxed manner and just really enjoy this last blog camp here on poplar tree street. but never fear, we'll be back up and running again in a new location, wherever it may be,  sometime late summer/early fall.

in the meantime, i'll try to check in with updates over the weekend, as i move ever-closer to that 1000th post.

what a star!

parent-teacher conferences take place once a year in our public school here in denmark. and yesterday was the day. sabin has several different teachers for different subjects, but she also has a main teacher. the conference yesterday was with her and with the math & science teacher.

i think as a parent, you always go into these meetings with a bit of trepidation. it can give you the feeling of going back yourself to those days, as they often take place in the classroom and you're sitting in a child-sized seat, staring across the desk at the authority figure teachers, feeling a bit worried about what you're going to hear. it crosses your mind that maybe you should pull yourself together in the morning and make the child brush the rats' nests out of her hair a bit better and maybe not always make her the same boring leverpostej sandwich in her lunch, and be a little bit better about insuring she's got the right books in her bag and sharp pencils in her pencil case. it's odd how, for me anyway, the whole situation calls forth feelings of anxiety, even tho' we've received a student plan in advance that pretty much spells out everything that's going to be discussed, so there are no surprises.

it didn't help that the conference before us went more than forty minutes over time, so we waited outside the closed door, in the hallway, with that old dread of going in to face the principal mounting in us. the child comes to the conference as well, so there we sat together, the three of us, drawing pictures of roof construction possibilities (as one does) on a piece of paper that happened to be lying on the table, and trying not to think about why the conference before us went on so long. it got even worse when the student in question came out of the room, clearly red-eyed from crying, and sat quietly in the hall while his parents stayed inside with the teachers. yikes!

at last our turn came and we went in. thankfully, it was more like a conference room that you'd encounter for meetings at work, and didn't take place in the classroom and the children's desks, so the awkward feeling passed. we really like sabin's teachers, so once we were actually there, greeting them and smiling and laughing, all of that dread dissipated, but it's still interesting how it can arise, even in otherwise totally well-adjusted, resourcestærke parents.

and what we heard was what every parent completely dreams of hearing. that sabin had become much more confident in the classroom, that she spoke up and that she even dared to be wrong once in awhile (last year at the conference, we found out that she was a real perfectionist and this kept her from speaking up). she had come a long way in her reading and spelling - which had been a bit behind last year, undoubtedly because she is growing up bilingual. she was great in math, always digging right into the assignments and participating in a lively way during class. we also heard that she gets along with everyone, that all of the other kids would like to be assigned to a group with her and that she has great social skills. she can sense when someone is about to be sad and she is gentle and kind towards them. she's able to say no to something in way that leaves everyone feeling ok about it. and she's very good at getting the group rallied around an activity - be it a game or making something together. we heard that she's very creative and inspires creativity in the other kids. it was so positive it almost became embarrassing in the totally opposite way to what we could have expected.

and i think that it's all because of her riding. she started riding almost a year ago and her posture has improved, her confidence has improved, as has her entire outlook and attitude (not that it was bad before, it really wasn't). but i think that spending time every weekend at her riding lessons has given her something she's proud of being good at and it's made her a bit less of a spoiled only child. because a horse can see through any spoiled behavior and doesn't allow it. so she's had to learn on occasion about not getting her way. and i think it's been really good for her.

popularity is such an elusive thing. it's hard to put a finger on what makes one person popular and another one picked on. but it's true that she's never been the picked on child in the class. it's also true that she has a wide range of friends home with her on a regular basis. she plays with both boys and girls, pretty much equally. and her annual halloween party has become a real event on the class's autumn social calendar. so, i don't know what it is, but i am very grateful for it. and it's a big part of why when we move, we don't want her to have to change schools. it seems conditions are perfect for her in this one.

weaving - the beginning

i was so excited all day yesterday, as i looked forward to my first weaving class with the weaving club (vævelaug) in a nearby town. i thought about it all day, hoping they would be as nice as the ladies at the museum over in randbøldal, where i first was introduced to weaving, had been. so i kind of bounced off the walls and was rather unfocused on everything else i did all day long. maybe part of it was the prospect of actually leaving the house and being around other people too, but that's perhaps a whole 'nother story.

a couple of things tried to stand in my way in getting there. i had the address plotted into my clever phone and knew it would take me 28 minutes to get there, so i left in plenty of time. i got out to the car and as i drove up the hill, the empty light flashed on the gas tank. nice job, husband, leaving me with no gas. grudge book. husband has an annoying habit of seeing how far he can push a tank of gas before filling it. clearly he did not grow up in blizzard country. friggin' copenhagen city boy. so i was fuming and wondering if i had time to fill before i got there. i called him and yelled some incoherent (i was slightly manic about the weaving class, remember) things about chivalry being dead and "in my culture, men are responsible for filling gas tanks," and such, and then i headed north.

i got up there faster than the clever phone said i would, so i pulled into a gas station to fill. which is when i discovered that i didn't have my purse. apparently That Girl had packed up a bag full of weaving books and notebooks and pens and a camera and a sweater in case it was cold there, but she neglected to grab my purse. so now i had an empty gas tank - the light was staying on, rather than blinking on and off - and no means of filling it. and i wasn't going to be able to pay for my weaving course when i got there. nice start. but happily, in my head, i was able to add it to husband's grudge book entry, because as i was leaving he was going on and on about how i had to look for sabin and her friend and send them home from the sledding hill so they could eat dinner, so it was technically his fault that i didn't pick up my purse.

my clever phone guided me to the address and i saw a little building, all lit up, so i followed some other people in. i was a little surprised how smoky it was inside and by the wave of alcohol fumes coming off the woman by the door who greeted me. then she slurred, are you going to walk with us? walk with you? i was confused. and i had gone into the little clubhouse of a gangforening - a walking club, apparently for old smoking alcoholics. they probably even use those sticks, tho' i got out of there before i found out.

there was a time when that would have totally defeated me and i would have hurried home as fast as possible, embarrassed and confused and a little bit hurt. but i got back in the car and consulted the clever phone again for the address. i took a trip around the block and discovered that the area was dotted with all kinds of little association clubhouses. and finally, there was another one with lights on (across the street from the walkers - why couldn't they just TELL me that, by the way?) and i found it.

this time, it was much more obvious that i was in the right place. there were things like yarn and looms and combs and shuttles and nice people welcoming me rather than stumbling over to me and looking at me like i may have come from another planet. it felt a bit like coming home.

there are two rooms packed full of looms. i only had the macro lens on me, so i'll have to share a shot of them next time. there's a little kitchen and a little library and storage for many, many combs and shelves of yarn and spinning supplies and those thingies that help you turn a skein of yarn into a ball of yarn (must learn the term for those). it's a whole, sweet little old house devoted entirely to weaving - can you imagine anything more fantastic?

and everyone was so nice. the teacher is an artist who makes his living as a weaver. he has a studio in frederiksværk and i'm looking forward to going there at some point to see his work. the first thing i will weave is a sampler where i will learn different patterns - 8 different little 20cm x 20cm squares, which will then go into a book that i will make, to use as reference for my future weaving. the teacher had a big bag of yarn that he had been given, so i could choose three colors from it for my sampler. hmm, guess what colors i chose?

no surprises there. my first task was to take the yarn from skein to balls, using a winder of some sort (i will learn the technical terms, i promise). one issue is that i'm learning all of this in danish and i didn't really have the vocabulary for it in english to begin with! so much to learn!

the light blue was hopelessly tangled, so i ended up having to do it by hand, which took the better part of an hour. the other two went as they were supposed to and in no time, i had them wound into balls. what was most fascinating about the process was the way my teacher handled the skeins of yarn. it was so clear that he had a level of comfort with them borne of years of working with fibers. i felt a little bit in awe.

by the time i had it finished and we had talked through my pattern and how many warp strands i will need to set up on the loom, it was time to go. i'm so excited to learn this from the very beginning - including how to set it up! even just talking through the pattern with my teacher made me understand better some of what i'd been reading. i'm definitely a person who needs to be shown things rather than only told them!

what's really wonderful about the group is how nice everyone was. they all talked to me even tho' i hadn't met them when we were all back in kindergarten. they were interested in how i had found them and where my interest in weaving came from. i could feel some of the spirit of camaraderie that i had been hoping for (and didn't find) with the local art association i joined last year. it felt a bit like coming home.

and i so want a loom for my birthday. it already feels like an eternity til next tuesday.

looking back

when sabin was little:

: : she had the cutest little red cowboy boots with silver-tipped toes.

: : she called hippopotamus (we had a lot of those in our sandra boynton books) "hillaponsa"

: : all the people she drew had flowers for heads.

: : she once ate her weight in those tiny little shrimp that take forever to peel (fjordrejer) and then asked for more.

: : she stayed with her cousins in the US and kept asking for "min mor og min far" and nobody knew what she was talking about, so they took her to see a big old fat hog on the farm next door.

: :  told the neighbors that she was 100% danish, but also half swedish and half american (that may have been only a week or so ago).

: : was more snowsuit than child when bundled up for cold weather.

next steps

i didn't really think that much about how i'd feel when the house was sold. and although the paperwork isn't all signed and agreed, we have an offer and it looks like we can agree to it. so it seems that for all intents and purposes, it is sold. and i feel at once excited and happy and eager and a bit sad and wistful. and wondering how it will all fall into place.

it seems that newly white hallway did the trick.

* * *

strangely, my iMac went all weird this evening and i'm in the midst a total reinstall. thank goodness for backups on the Time Capsule. tho' i'll lose the photos from the past couple days, since i turned off the backup three days ago, when i was tired of the noise one day. not sure what went wrong, but i'm hopeful that all will be well when the reinstall is complete. lesson 1: back up your computer! lesson 2: make sure you have a macbook pro along with your iMac so you're never computerless. :-)

stitched up: what does quilting mean?

last week, i happened to go to jude hill's big cartel site at exactly the right time to be able to, at long last, buy one of her beautiful spirit cloth creations. and it arrived already yesterday. it must have taken the first flight it could, because it seemed to get here very quickly. i think it knew how much i was looking forward to it.i've mentioned jude's spirit cloth blog and photostream before, because i have been drawn back to her work again and again for awhile now. i love the insight into her process that she shares on her blog - it's definitely magical.

as i sit here and write this, with the cloth here on my lap, i feel it radiating a quiet magic. i've had a half-written post on the topic of this quilting thing in my head for several days now, but it didn't really want to come out. now that the cloth is here, it seems the words are ready to come.

i joined jude's slow cloth group on facebook last week. there is a lively discussion going on there, but i'll admit that i ended up feeling very provoked by what was being said. especially by what was being said about contemporary quilters and quilting materials. there seemed to be a preference for old fabrics over new and hand stitching instead of sewing with a machine. a decided prejudice against what's marketed and an attitude towards quilt shows and popularizing quilt designers (tho' no one dared to name names) that i can only describe as haughty. i found myself feeling strangely angry about some of what i read (i must stress that it isn't everyone in the group or even everyone in the discussion - and jude is marvelous at redirecting the conversation onto a thoughtful and more productive track). but some of it seemed arrogant and elitist. there is actually one person who said they couldn't stand the rotary cutters many people use for cutting fabric. and another who was criticizing what people did with their quilts and how they hung them - as if they weren't their own to do with as they pleased. i was overwhelmed by a sense of irony that the conversation is taking place on facebook - the use of modern social networking to have a conversation about a return to traditional handmade quilting. hmmm....

one of the participants in the discussion, linked to this blog post about what quilting is today and what it once was (in this person's opinion). and i think the post sums up nicely the anti-commercial thread that's in evidence in the facebook group.  also ironic, because if you start to look at the blogs of the participants, you find that most have an etsy or big cartel site and some even sell through galleries, so they are, in fact, selling their work, even as they express disdain for those who do so. i'm not sure if i can make that fit together very well.

and while it would be wonderful if we could all sit in our cocoons and create to our hearts' content, the reality of the world in which we find ourselves is that we probably need to sell some of the things we make. selling not only supports our creative habits, but it also validates us if we're honest about it. and it brings us joy. i feel so happy and satisfied that my friend blanca wanted to give baby quilts that i made to some of the babies in her family for christmas. and while the financial side is nice, what's actually even nicer is that my friend liked my work enough to want to give it as a meaningful gift to someone she loves.

anyway, i guess i have this quilting thing and what it might all mean on my mind these days. on my mind as i contemplate cutting into sabin's baby's clothes to be able to make her a memory quilt of her life thus far. on my mind as i made blocks for christmas for husband's daughters to have memory quilts of their own--of our travels and our times spent together. on my mind as i contemplate the wonderful handmade quilt husband's mother made for him--a mixture of blocks he designed and traditional blocks. on my mind as i try to decide what to do with the beautiful, bright quilt top that my great grandmother made.

i'm finding it a bit surprising, the strong emotions i feel about this whole thing. there is something about stitching. something that feels connected and grounding. but i honestly have no objection to using new fabrics, just because they're popular. when i look at the quilt top that my great grandmother made, i see bright, cheerful fabrics that i'm sure were the popular ones of her era. so to use the new and beautiful fabrics i see out there seems to me to be quilting in her spirit, even if i do most of my sewing my machine and am quite attached to my rotary cutter.

i think one of the magical things about quilts is that they are very representative of their times. they are quite literally the very fabric of their time. and i don't see anything wrong with that. as i look through the book about swedish quilts that i found a few months ago, i see that the same was true then. so, i'm going to hang out in the slow cloth group and see what i can learn, because there are some real artists there, even if some of the group is a bit elitist and disdainful (despite a lot of talk about mentoring). i'm confident i can hold my own. and find my own stitching voice. but i do think that having an incredible piece like jude's story fragment beside me as i do it will help. thank you jude, for giving in a bit to the commercial side and sharing your beautiful work. i will take good care of it.