Crossing over

While satisfied with my first two 100% machine
made works
, now No. 3 had me throw excessive consistency
to the wind...

At first I liked the stitchless, colourless
handwriting - but now decided to cross the borders
between categories (always a good idea, anyways...)
and add some handstitching

"There is no such thing as objective reality.
You color everything."

(Deng Ming-Dao, borrowed at Whiskey River)


Beat it, bird...

In a stuffing mood, it seems...
Here´s the latest product of this inclination

He got promoted from the spot to the
position of head guardian wight -
because continuous attempts are made by the
robber bird to devastate the potato plantations...


Who Knows

I´m always coming back to orange centers
- here in lavender hearts I made (and all from the
same and only piece of orange silk, but
who cares...?)
Perhaps it´s because I´m rather fond of eggs,
who knows...?

"Who cares
Why bother
How come
What possible difference
Could it make"

(Bob Holman: Who Knows, from Chinese Poems)


Wind Song

Lots of rain today, and lightning, and wind...

... and another 100 % machinemade mini quilt -
with words from Carl Sandburg´s Wind Song:

"Who can ever forget
listening to the wind go by
counting its money
and throwing it away?"


Crochet Trifle

"Have a very good reason for everything you do."

(Sir Lawrence Olivier, born May 22, 1907)


Some such Butterfly

Another one of the small works I think I should
call Calmers (for that´s what they are, nerve calmers...)
- it is (or intends to become, when grown up...)
a Schmetterling, a butterfly

"Some such Butterfly be seen
On Brazilian Pampas—
Just at noon—no later—Sweet—
Then—the License closes—

Some such Spice—express and pass—
Subject to Your Plucking—
As the Stars—You knew last Night—
Foreigners—This Morning—"

(Emily Dickinson: Some such Butterfly be seen)


A Test

The small photo size has been getting on
my nerves lately...

Above: a bird nine-patch in the works, having
a bird/bat visitant...



These two (about 27 x 27 cm each) are,
for a change, 100% machinesewn und -quilted

It´s different. It´s quick.
I like them. But...
(Lack of soul?)

"Nothing touches like tan velvet touches
the palm. Now the cracks come, because what gives
without taking?—Doesn't exist. Say

you forget what is lanolin, what is raw about fleece
uncarded & unwashed. Say the silver feel
of charmeuse lines your sleep. You've lost

what there was before pins & needles, sound
a scissors makes through cloth on a hardwood floor,
thick waist of the dressmaker's dummy. Don't tell me

any more. Without Burano lace, without cinnabar
strung on a cuff, shantung and satin and netting and swiss:
no rich man, no camel, no needle's threatening eye."

(Éireann Lorsung: Dressmaker)



Still interested in exploring ways to
attach small hard objects to cloth -
and after doing it this way and that way -
I tried it the way indian mirror embroidery
is done (couldn´t find small round
mirrors, used a mother of pearl button
with the eye missing instead)

Last week I found this bag in a thrift-
store. I like the way it´s stitched,
doesn´t look like recent mass production...

"There would seem to be nothing more obvious,
more tangible and palpable, than the present moment.
And yet it eludes us completely. All the sadness
of life lies in that fact."

(Milan Kundera - borrowed at Thinker online...)


A special treat, like sundays

... although sundays aren´t very special
days, or are they...?
Anyways, a treat (for myself): Riverrun completed...
It´s about 37 x 37 cm
(click photo to enlarge it...)

"I thought things wouldn’t slide
But the whole world slides and quivers
And into your eyes the sunlight
Flows, like those rivers

that abandon themselves
To the sea. I thought that water
Was a special treat, like Sundays.
You couldn’t be wetter;

We lived there once and took
Our gills for granted.
I think all fish are birds, the sea a sky.
All mammals myth, pliant, love-haunted."

(Luke Davies: Slide)


Stones made for paper

A gift of paperweights I made - for
a person who has command of (or tries
to...) a considerable paper warfare

"I [Stadt]

kariertes Holz dünn beschriftet leicht zu knackendes
Glas. Alarm. Die Mauern einst in Büchern. Man steht
vor diesem feinen ordentlichen Staub. Ein anderer
rührt das Grün in die Luft. Die Stämme
schwarz vom Ruß der Betenden. Arbeiter hämmern
eine Straße. Ambulanz.

II [elegisch]

ein Luftzug von gestikulierenden Damen rüttelt Akazien
und Schotenbäume in ihrem Gefieder die Vögel verlassen
den Staub und schmeißen sich (Steine) in die starre
Hitze die auf den Hügeln reitet: Wächter Akrobat
Zisterne Uhr. Für jede Luft bin ich zu schwer. Mit meiner
Nase zähle ich die Finger in der Ebene
ich sitze gut auf diesem Zaun

III [Legende]

Er sah jetzt Gestalten in den inwendigen Spiegeln des Hauses
ungemalt saßen sie mit geblasenen Backen Uniformen und
Krawatten eng am karierten Hemdkragen preussische Namen
vor sich hinsagend: seit Monaten trinke ich kein Bier

schreckten hoch flatterten mit geknickten Armen wenn
er die Tür schlug seine Tage waren angefüllt mit
intelligentem Getier zahnlosen Löwenköpfen aus biblischen
Gärten altes Zirkusmaterial und zersägte

von Schimmeln gezogen im Restaurant traten mächtige
Blondinen an seinen Tisch jonglierten mit Einkaufstüten"

(Hans Thill: Papier aus Stein/Paper made
of stone

I (Town)
Checkered wood thinly inscribed easily broken glass.
Alarm. The walls once book clad. One stands before
this fine orderly dust. Anothers stirs the green
in the air. The tree-trunks black with the soot of
the praying. Workers hammer a street. Ambulance
II (elegiac)
A draft of air from gesturing ladies shakes acacias
and laburnums in their plumage the birds leave the
dust and throw themselves (stones) in the rigid heat
riding on the hills: Warder Acrobat Cistern Clock.
I am too heavy for any air. With my nose I count my
finger on the flat. I am sitting pretty on this
III (Legend)
Now he could see shapes in the inner mirrors of the
house unpainted they sat there with puffed-out cheeks
uniforms and cravats sung on their checked shirt
collars reciting Prussian names: for month I haven´t
touched beer
reared up fluttered with bent arms when he banged the door
his days were filled with intelligent wildlife
toothless lion´s heads from biblical gardens old
circus material and sawed-up female stars
drawn by white horses in the restaurant hearty
blond women came up to his table juggled with
shopping in parcels

(translation A. Duncan)


Spring Stick Story, part two

Well, I placed stick No. 2 -
on a cemetery...
It´s one of my favorite playgrounds
(no necromancy here - it´s just a peaceful
place, with a nice pond in the middle, not
far from the Olympia stadium...)

I thought: why not place it on a neglected

...and choose one of an unknown soldier
who died in 1945...

...then had a quiet hour, sitting on
a bench, sewing a log cabin block...

Perhaps I´m going to make some more

"Men are more moral than they think and
far more immoral than they can imagine."

(Sigmund Freud, born May 6, 1856)


Housewide mousepride

Was having a little quality time with Riverrun
this afternoon, trying something I saw mentioned
in a book a while ago: quilting along a piece
of adhesive tape to get a (rather) straight line...
Found it helpful.

(Sei stolz auf Dich = Be proud of yourself)


Spring Stick Story, part one

Finally, as announced back here, I placed
the spring stick Susan at ArtSpark Theatre
has made...

No, not at the gates of Beijings´s
Forbidden City...

... it´s the Olympia stadium subway
station, Berlin..

... populated at the time of the
taking only by tiny people...

... which is so much the better, as the
ArtSparker has a special fondness for them
(for proof, visit her Tiny Theatre)...

... and stay tuned for part two of the
Spring Stick Story...