Month: March 2012

Rearview Fridays: Knitted Easter Eggs

After a long week full of cold days and soul searching, I emerge today to acknowledge my blog for the week. I try to write here 3 times per week and more often accomplish 2 entries, but life got the better of me and my time! And every time I tried to formulate an entry, I had nothing and everything to write about. So I waited.

The weather got really cold again, driving us back under big comforters and I felt the impulse to hibernate — truly. Every moment possible I slept, deeply. Whenever a kid slept, there I was! It was awesome really. Disorienting, plan changing, but so good. I still only get a max of 3 hours at a time with a nursing baby at my side, so I do have big, sexy fantasies of 8 hours of uninterrupted, blissful, needtopee-free sleep, alone in a huge bed of course … sigh … and then I shake myself and wonder if I could even do it if it was possible, honestly I’d probably make a craft instead if I had that kind of time!

My Knitted Easter Eggs in a backyard tree, enjoying the burning-off of spring frost in the morning sun. And a door to ... somewhere?! (We're doing some construction)

As for the soul search part, I formally resigned from my work as a managing editor. I won’t return there after my maternity leave. It was time. There was a lot of consideration and I feel truly solid in my decision. But I’m leaving a secure place to land and a known quantity that’s been a part of my life in various forms for the past 10 years. And I’m walking towards an Autumn of mothering with my (paid)work committed to the development of my independent sewing business. I’m giving this working-from-home thing a shot at last.  And I’m very excited!

And for your Reaview Fridays pleasure I present Knitted Easter Eggs! I made them through the late winter of 2009 as my Rudi approached his first birthday. And, bless my ambitious heart, I made one for everyone who attended his first birthday party! I was left with 9 that I use every year now to make an Easter Tree, a weird but beautiful decoration that I feel attached to from childhood. I used this lovely, easy pattern from Lonie May. I think I added a row or 2 to the middles as I like a nice long-bodied egg, made hanging loops and added colours to create patterns. Here they are with some of their real brothers from an Ontario farm:

Cheers to change and bravery and possibility. And to Fridays! Happy weekend.

Rearview Friday: Costume Dolls

I was talking about dolls with a friend last night and my mind wandered in it’s dusty reaches to recall some of the dolls I’ve made in the past. I think it’s time to share these little ladies for today’s Rearview Friday!

I made them, wee versions of us, as a gift for my co-choreographer Lindsay Zier-Vogel on the premiere of our dance work Edith and Eliza in the spring of 2006. The dolls are based on Waldorf dolls (that’s right I was a Waldorf kid! And I have a deep sentimental fondness for these little dolls with the simple faces). If you want to know more about Waldorf dolls, I found a lovely how-to here by Amber Dusick, who also happens to be the brilliant lady behind Parenting. Illustrated with Crappy Pictures. I am a big fan. You probably should be too.

Anyhoooo, back to the dolls: in addition to sort of looking like Lindsay and me, the dolls are dressed in tiny versions of costumes from 2 of our collaborative dance projects, seen in full size and context below. As you can see they each have an envelope. This is because part of our creative process for Edith and Eliza was to actually write and post letters to each other as “Edith” and “Eliza”, fictitious war brides we created to develop a story behind the dance. Some of the text from these letters was woven into the soundscore as a narration. Each letter snaps onto the dolls hand and actually has a wee letter in it. Because I am awesome. And obviously humble. But seriously, it was a really fulfilling creative process. The the doll making was a cherry-on-top project in the fun department.

The dances that the doll’s costumes were made to honour:

Susanne Chui and Jennifer Dallas in Whistling Matilda, a dance film by Rhys Brisbin, Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel, 2004. Photo: Linsday Zier-Vogel.
Susan Kendal in Edith and Eliza by Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel, 2006. Photo: Ted Zier-Vogel.

And lastly, our lovely selves with the dollies. Just before we went into the theatre for the premiere. Edith and Eliza and the costume dolls were the last major dance and crafty-sewing projects I worked on before becoming pregnant and a mommy. Feels like a lifetime ago, but not in a bad way. Just a “huh” way. Life was so utterly different then!

Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel outside the Winchester Street Theatre, Toronto. Showing off the costume dolls just before the premiere of our work Edith and Eliza, part of the Series 8:08 Season Finale, May 2006. Photo: Andrea Roberts.

Cheers to art, all kinds of it, making our lives so full. Happy Friday folks.

Quilting Challenge: March

In the continuation of my 2012 Quilting Challenge to myself I present my March quilting pattern, the acorn! It’s joined here in birth order by leaf and apple, January and February’s offerings respectively.

One more pattern to use on my quilts and burping pads, done.

I love nuts. That sounds a bit wrong but I’ll leave it, cause it’s true! I don’t remember ever seeing a chestnut or an acorn on the ground in Alberta, but they’re everywhere here in Ontario! And while the colour and texture of a chestnut is fantastic, it’s a bit of a blob when it comes to outlining it, not so inspiring. But an acorn, what a charmer! A lovely shape, makes me think of gnomes and chipmunks and quiet, mossy spaces.

I love this acorn in it’s singular context. I might dial the detail down a bit more when using it on a quilt or a burping pad, not sure that the crosshatching is entirely necessary in a different context. Anyways I’m really enjoying this 12-part challenge. Something to look forward to and muse upon. Now I get to cook up April’s quilt …

Springing and travelling and gathering myself

Folks, it’s spring, I smell it. I saw a Robin. I heard a Robin. I saw heaps of Crocuses. Rudi picked one, stopped the stroller of his own volition and worked it into Gene’s sleeping hand today. Is there anything better than dimpled fingers on the first crocus of spring?

My blog was quieter than usual last week because I was away from my desk and my everyday life. I took a trip across the country to Victoria with my wee-man Gene to stay with one of my best friends in the world, commencing a 3-day “vagilogue” as my husband so tactfully put it. My heart and mind got filled up with the true solid, friendship, the kind you can slip into easily, years folding up on one another, marrying now and “the last time.” I feel super buoyed up even if I’m physically exhausted from solo travel with a baby and too many time zones!

At 6-months Gene was a spectacular traveller. He happily boarded 4 planes in 5 days, did a lot of sleeping, nursing, watching airport lights, and peek-a-booing with friendly dudes behind us. He even met his uncle Dave for the first time on a strategically planned layover and he snuggled his Alberta Gran-E (obviously that’s her rapper name. She’s a granny + her name’s Elaine … you see where I’m going with this, my mom is so cool!). I also ran into 3 friends from my teenage life in Alberta 17 years ago — how nice for that to happen in real-alive-life rather than on social media, as much as I truly do love the book of faces and the twits.

And now I’m excited to be getting back into the groove of my life, surrendering happily to this utterly moment-to-moment existence as a full-time mom on maternity leave with 2 wee ones who’s also trying to get ready to hit the ground running with her own work — sewing, editing, choreographing — when the formal mat leave is up. I am working hard and gaining at my practice of simplicity in a moment, being present right where I am, which, to be totally honest, is usually: feeding, doing dishes, thinking about sweeping up the dust bunnies, reading (to clarify: not my own popular novel or work of complex theory but more of a librarian-reading-to-the-poo-joke-loving-masses), cooking, thinking that 5 months is too long to wait for a hair cut, walking to the park, colouring, thinking about blogging, playing, getting vomited and/or pooed on, thinking how long is it since I washed my hair, huh, and so on, you get the picture.

But I’m also keenly aware of the things I want and need to do to keep my adult self and creativity sharp. I keep them tucked in a brain-drawer during most of this extravaganza that is the current norm and at the end of the day, I take time to weigh what’s really necessary for the coming one, and to be reasonable with myself in order to have the personal wherewithal to meet the necessary and leave a little for the desired. Thus not a lot of action on my sewing-work front, but good plans for when the time arrives to make it all happen for reals. I live in hope good people, keep the faith!

Adventures in …

… BABY FOOD!

My little Gene-bean is now 6 1/2 months old. He’s been gnawing on veggies, toast crusts, fruit, hunks of meat, generally taste-testing anything we’re eating for the past few weeks. With his big brother Rudi, I did the widely perscribed and accepted intro to eating through a series of different cereal, but I found it oh so bland, boring, messy and altogther uninspired. So with Gene, we’re trying something different — he’s eating what we’re eating (within reason!).

I was making soup last week so I separated out some yams and turnips before fancying up my seasoning and blended them on their own. And then I borrowed a technique from my dear friend Angela: once blended, take a spoon and throw down “splats” (splat being the technical term in this highly technical and specific process, ahem) of blended veggies on a wax paper covered cookie sheet. Then freeze said splats, remove them from the sheet and have baby-sized splats stored in tupperware or freezer bags, ready to pop into a pot for a 2 minute warming and presto! Super gorgeous baby food. And I only have to make a batch every couple of weeks. Awesome. Here’s Gene’s first ever round of yams and turnips:

… TRAVELLING WITH A SOOTHER!

I was very judgemental about soothers/pacifiers/dummies before I had Rudi. Then I had Rudi. And he was a sucker. And anything that soothed my baby made sense, so I gave and a soother family we became. I feel just fine about it! To each his/her (pronouns just for you Angela, bloody capital-F Feminist!) own I truly feel. But I digress, this adventure is not about to soother or not to soother, it’s about how to hang onto the dang things if you use ’em.

Gene and I got on a plane 3 days ago. The day before, as I watched the soother fall out of his mouth and roll around and around my (obviously sparklingly clean, ahem ahem) dining room floor I remembered: I needed a soother holder, I had no time, I didn’t want to spend $9 on some ribbon and a clip, I sew. I added it up, looked around, saw my beloved sheep-and-black-sheep ribbon roll, some twill tape from a 4-pack of Beau’s beer and a sports lanyard of my husband’s.

I knew what I had to do.

The clip from the lanyard was quickly cut off, the ribbon sized up against Gene’s (unaturally, hilariously long) torso, the twill tape turned inside-out so as to appear plain and un-beer-related. I sewed, I came up with this:

It works like a charm and I got compliments all over the airport. Notes to future travelling self: 1. shoulda brought an order form, 2. need to take business cards.

… BEING QUIETLY AWESOME FOR YOURSELF!

Sometimes you need to add a little personal-awesome to your ensemble for yourself. A private joke for you. I like love adore Harry Potter.  I must not tell lies. So when I got an awesome faux patent diaper bag just before Gene was born, I knew I had to jazz the lameish logo up a bit. So naturally I sourced a Gryffindor patch and sewed that sucker right over the offending label.

And now I am infinitely cooler as I walk along with my bulging bag. Almost no one has noticed, but I love it. It’s like wearing leopard underwear, privately knowing that you’ve spiced, jazzed, expelliarmused it up a notch!

Dancing Semaphore

A late afternoon session at my sewing machine, buried in piles of netting, finishing the costume for my current dance project Semaphore:

I’m excited to be presenting this new wee solo Semaphore tonight and tomorrow, at a coffee house presentation put on by students of The School of Toronto Dance Theatre (my Alma mater). I’m friends with Megumi Kokuba, one of the current graduating students there, and we decided it would be fun to work on something together for her last student coffee house. We settled on Semaphore Flag systems — in both English and Japanese — as an inspiration point.We choreographed together, Megumi is performing and I’ve made the costume and set, comprised of giant paper airplanes (it was fun learning how to fold them online. I was never a big on making paper airplanes as a kid, so I had to look ’em up, now I’m hooked).

Megumi models the costume in studio B (I have spent many hours of my life in this room, taking class, rehearsing, teaching class, choreographing, sigh):

The work literally uses Semaphore Flag positions to spell out the words “remember” and “solitaire” in English and Japanese. We created choreography using the flag symbols as a starting point, tracing their lines through the space. We also walked the points used in semaphore flagging across the floor. Megumi and I worked fast (we spent just 3 hours in the studio together, yikes!) due to mad schedules for both of us and I’m really pleased with the result. The music we used is by Buck 65, a fantastic Canadian artist. Both his music and lyrics in the song Paper Airplane speak to me of longing and reaching across space and time. A beautiful, lilting song, it felt like the right fit for this dance.

Check out a 3 minute clip of Semaphore I’ve compiled on vimeo. It was filmed during the tech run, first time under lights and with the “living set” of 3 dancers that walk with paper airplanes across the space and around the dancer throughout the work.

Rudi and Gene (3 1/2 years and 6 months respectively) both came to some of our rehearsals and also sat through the technical and dress rehearsals — they are superstars with focus and patience that belie their years and months. They actually enjoyed sitting in the dark theatre (for the most part, Rudi was a bit freaked by the super-dark between dances and the cheering from the fellow performers attending rehearsal) and watching the magic unfold under the theatrical lighting. Rudi’s quiet little wonderings were so charming, “Where’s the music?” (a legit question, oh contemporary dance in silence!), and “I see ghost shadows!” (oh massive shadows thrown by theatre lights!). As a mom it’s so rewarding to still be able to practice my craft and involve my wee kids in what I do. I love that they won’t remember the first time they attended a theatre event, it’s just part of their lives.

Well, as we say in dance before the show, merde (instead of break a leg, that’s for the theatre folk) and may your weekend be gorgeous.

—

Click here for details on the show Coffee House: Dark Roast.

An Earthy Day

I am starting today with 2 things I love: soup making and contemporary dance. Food from the ground and feet on the ground — with consciousness and artistic purpose. A lovely way to enter the week.

I’ve got a pile of beautiful organic root veg (here they are enjoying the March sunshine!) begging to be made into soup. I shall oblige …

… and a deadline to have a wee solo completed for a performance this weekend. I’m working on a dance for Megumi Kokuba, a graduating student from The School of Toronto Dance Theatre‘s Professional Training Program. We’re collaborating on this solo for her, using both English and Japanese Flag Semaphore as a starting point for choreography. A dress is in the making and there are 3 huge paper airplanes as the set. I hope to share some video of the work later this week. In the meantime, feet-at-the-ready for final choreographic touches, which may or may not get settled on in the kitchen while soup making, just sayin’:

As per my post last Monday, I’ve spent the past week working on being conscious and present in the task at hand. Embracing or finding the simplicity of a job, a moment in time. And while soup-making and dance-making may seem disparate partners and dividers of attention, I think the cooking will provide some contemplation space for choreographic editing since the dance really is done, I just need to consider finishing touches, the editing of the movement and structure. And I think it’s working, this being present business; I seem to be a happier, more satisfied, less yell-y/cranky, exhausted and sad version of myself both as a momma and simply(!) as a being human. Happy week to all!

Rearview Fridays: Paint Sample Art

Today’s Rearview Friday is my paint sample art — a piece I made to brighten our bedroom wall last year. I’d found a stash of leftover paint samples from another project (which I describe below) and the muse woke up!

It’s an quick and dirty way to make a beautiful (if I do say so myself!) piece of art. I think I’ll make a how-to for it soon, so stay tuned!

Now why did I have a stack of paint samples tucked away? Press on …

When I present my dance work, I like to make unique program inserts, something to treasure, a little piece of art that supports the dance. In the spring of 2008, I created a dance about Achromatopsia (colour blindness). I used paint samples as my program inserts and put a quote from Dr. Oliver Sacks on the backs of them, a teaser to whet the audience’s curiosity. I’ll eventually include a Rearview Friday post about the dance, a piece called A|Chromatic.

The quote is awesome, I’ve gotta share it too:

“What, I wondered, would the visual world be like for those born totally colour-blind? Would they, perhaps, lacking any sense of something missing, have a world no less dense and vibrant than our own? Might they even have developed heightened perceptions of visual tone and texture and movement and depth, and live in a world in some ways more intense than our own, a world of heightened reality – one that we can only glimpse echoes of in the work of the great black-and-white photographers? Might they indeed see us as peculiar, distracted by trivial or irrelevant aspects of the visual world, and insufficiently sensitive to its real visual essence? I could only guess, as I had never met anyone completely colour-blind.”

Dr. Sacks wrote about Achromatopsia in his book Island of the Colorblind, a fascinating read. I was drawn to explore the idea of colourblindness — black and white vision — in my dance project because my mother and aunt were both born with Achromatopsia. And in spite of literally growing up alongside someone so close to me whose eyes see so differently than mine, I was/am hard-pressed to imagine what the world is like through a constant black and white lense.