goods and heroes

looming

It's been a great week for learning new things and getting to create and explore. On Thursday a few friends and former co-workers gathered up at North Park Village Nature Center. Our challenge was to try and construct a simple loom out of buckthorn (an invasive tree that is all over the Nature Center) and jute. If you want to get a sense of what we were attempting to make, check out this clip on YouTube. (Minus the charming British accents.) Note well that I just found this video tonight while posting and no one involved had any real clue what exactly we were really making other than the fact that involved, well, buckthorn and jute.

I had made a loom like this when I did a week-long course up at The Clearing a few years back. I remember it being a fabulous hands-on activity for our large group that truly required team-work. At the Clearing we put cut grasses and other tall, thin plants in the loom and created a completely natural "mat" that doubled as a nicely textured wall hanging. Typical for me, I was so enjoying the process of making the loom back then that I never took notes. (So I couldn't recreate it it from memory, which has been fuzzy at best since having wee ones.) But just recently, in a funny 1950s book called, simply, "Nature Crafts" I found this write-up on Grass Mat Looms. Eureka! I made a copy, snail-mailed it up to my friend Sean at the Nature Center and asked via a sticky note (aren't I old-school?)  "Do you think we could try this sometime?"

Sean, being the kind of person who always seems to be up for trying something out, said yes and proceeded to line up a date and also began cutting buckthorn. He asked a few friends as did I and the next thing you know there were half a dozen of us there at the Nature Center on Thursday ready to construct a loom.  The one challenge we faced was that thing you can never, ever control: the weather. It had been raining on and off all day and was raining lightly but we didn't let that stop us.

We headed out and began pounding the buckthorn stakes into the soggy ground. Instead of using a hammer, Sean had us use a buckthorn mallet. And why not, right? We hammered a total of nine stakes into the ground (two at the top and seven at the bottom end) and then got busy knotting and lashing wood together with the jute.I have fallen in love with the word "lashing" it is a very compelling and good-sounding word.

I'd say the one skill we all seemed to be lacking in (except Sean of course) was knot tying. And tying knots in the rain with super large work gloves is even trickier. But he showed us a variety of knots (a notching knot was one) and we slowly made progress with the base of the loom as well as the "shuttle" which is the thing you move back and forth to make the mat.

Here's Molly checking on the knots and the tension . . .

So we as a group built the loom with lots of joking about knot tying and how insanely satisfying it can be to just whack a stick or a couple of sticks with a large mallet. I don't know, but the easy banter that happens when you are trying to make something collectively and you are all there because you really want to be was quite satisfying in itself. And we were all set to start laying plant material on the jute and moving the shuttle-thing back and forth to take ourselves into the final phase of the project   . . . and then can you guess what happened? Yep. The skies opened up. I mean torrential rains with lots of lightning for added drama. (It actually rained so hard and for such a long time that our entire street was flooded later that day and when I returned from looming. had trouble finding "high ground" to park on.) So we had to go inside. And yet, our loom is done, it is sitting patiently at the Nature Center waiting for us to return and start putting it to use. It might have to be very patient. Maple tapping at the Nature Center is almost in full swing and spring gets so gonzo for people connected to outdoor happenings and events and education. But we all agreed we would re-group to make the mat. I mean, what's the point of making a loom if you don't use it to create something? (Maybe it's just knowing you now know how to make it?) Either way, I promise to post photos of the second half of the project.

hands on

Soule Mama has a new book coming out soon. I know a lot of crafty mamas who will be very excited about this.

It doesn't come out until August but you can pre-order it at her blog . Not sure If I will get it since my sewing skills are depressing but I bet my friend Heather might (we are both big dorky fans of Soule Mama). Maybe she can hold my hand through a project or two.

And this weekend, taking some inspiration from this book,

our little family had a heck of a good time creating this!

Not sure if Mr. Goldsworthy would scoff at us using a snow brick mold and (gasp!) a snowball maker thingy, but it's neither here nor there as we had a complete blast constructing it. It's still out there right in front of the condo. When we were building it, every single person that walked by either smiled or cheered us on or stopped to admire the, well, I think the collective spirit of it. Our odd little urban igloo snow sculpture action.

In addition to being inspired by the book, I was also very much channeling Mr. Goldsworthy's incredible patience and vision--that I had witnessed a few month's back in this film. Which, now that I think of it, I discovered thanks to the Soule Mama blog. (She is just so good.) Anyhow, I now want to host an Andy Goldsworthy weekend up in Michigan sometime. Just go out into the woods and construct whatever strikes our fancies. Maybe in March . . . when it's good and muddy and full of icy, wet muck. Sounds messy and divine.

stuff I am digging

In no particular order . . .

This Obama bandanna is delightful. I am very tempted to purchase one and either hang it on the wall or tuck it away into our little (but growing) Obama election time capsule. Or just always have it in my backpack. (I don't know if you know this about me but I always carry a bandanna in my backpack. Always.) It comes in many snappy colors and is a screaming deal at $8. You can buy it at hand over fist's etsy shop.

 

The City of Chicago has recently opened its Downtown Farmstand. The mission is to sell products that are grown/produced/created within a 250 mile radius of the Loop. It is just across the street from where I work (and also part of the Dept. of Cultural Affairs, which is techinically, fuzzily whom I also work for) anyhow, they have some gorgeous products right now from the Jane Adams Hull House. Dang, whoever is doing their packaging completely has a fabulous aesthetic. Or at least, one that I dig. And the products looks pretty tempting too. I bought this for my sister Jenny to send in her birthday package. Plums and Peace, what's not to love? (And a lovely little letterpressed label to boot!)

Finally, my lips have been a train wreck this winter and I have been enamored with honey as a moisturizer. While doing a sort of manic speed shopping tear through the Uptown Aldi today, I came across this cosmetic line (sandwiched between chicken broth and paper plates) which is made in Germany (where Aldi has its HQ's) and scored three tubes of Milk and Honey lip balm for $1.79. It is amazing. It smells like real honey (imagine that!) and is soft and seems to be helping my parched lips. I think I might have to go back and stockpile. No, that's not right. Stockpiling is weird. And besides, I've been researching making my own honey lip balm (from local honey) so I will restrain myself. But it is good stuff. Oh and I just noticed in the picture that the balm says "Face Care" but this is balm for the lips. Maybe that's why it showed up so insanely cheap at Aldi? Probably.

Time to go read stories to my little ones. I hope to share my own honey lip balm recipe with you in the next week or so. After I do a little mixing and mad chemistry natural cosmetic action of my own. And I will be sure to label everything right, you know, not getting the lips confused with the eyes. But if you must know, at this point in my life, my lips and my eyes need the same things--which is way more moisture and lotions and attention and care than I ever imagined. So I guess it doesn't really matter if I get it confused with the lips or the eyes.

scones and breathing

Early this morning I made a a nice big batch of dried cherry scones. I had three good reasons to do so: 1. I hadn't made scones in ages and Ted loves them so, and what with it being a holiday weekend with a romantic/presidential twang to it, I had no reason not to. 2. We had an old friend in town and she was coming over at that time between breakfast and lunch and scones and a bit of tea or coffee seemed like a perfectly civilized thing to serve up and 3. I am hosting a small play group for a few neighbors tomorrow morning and the scones keep well enough that they will be a nice treat for both the grown-ups and kids alike.

Since it's been more than a year since I've made them, I was feeling a bit rusty when it came to incorporating the wet ingredients into the dry, especially since my recipe says in a cautionary tone that I find rather intimidating, "Be sure not to overwork the dough, as this will make the scones tough."  I got to that stage where the flour seemed to keep re-appearing (and not happily incorporating into the wet ingredients) and the dough felt too sticky. And so for a tiny moment I was growling, thinking I am not making scones, I am, in fact, destroying a batch of scones that had really amazing potential. And at that little second of self-doubt (and what I have deemed "pastry fear") I took a good, deep breath and reminded myself that every time I have made these, every single time, they have come out very, very well. People gobble them up. People that usually show really amazing self-restraint with baked goods reach for seconds. And so I got the last bits of unruly flour to bind up with the rest of the dough. And I scooped them out onto the baking sheet. And I knew when I saw them in their uncooked little round heaps, with big fat bits of dried cherries poking out here and there, that everything was going to be just fine.

Breathe deep. That's what my Valentine told me to do. He was right, of course. He knows I stop breathing when I get nervous. He knows that I stop breathing if I think I am about to screw up the pizza dough, or if I am lost and running late and he has seen me stop breathing when the contractions kicked in big time. Both times.

Aren't I a lucky lady? Oh and the scones came out just about perfectly. And Ted got to eat as many as he wanted.

more crafty valentine action

Ooooh, I love these--wee heart pins made out of felt! And even though I possess terrible, pathetic sewing skills, I actually think I could make a few of these without crying or saying very bad words. Check out the super straightforward tutorial at Purl Bee.

Whoa, lookee there, Valentine's Day is now only 4 days away? How the heck did that happen? I need to go find some thoughtful little tokens of love for my own boys. I will tell you how it goes.

boxed origami valentines

Valentines for Sam's classmates were due to be dropped off at school last week, on February 4th.  Can you believe it, I mean, talk about early? We got the letter reminding us about the whole process and the timeline the second week of January. I don't know that we even had our Christmas tree down yet. But to be fair to Sam's school, now that we are on our third year of this Valentine action, I sort of understand the early deadline. Sort of. I think they want to give each child time to stuff their own Valentines into the 24 bags and so if you do 2-3 kids a day, well, you do the math.  Have you ever watched a 3 year-old stuff anything into anything? It's like watching an amoeba sort the mail . . or a USPS employee sort the mail. But at least the three year-old has the goofy smile and the sense of wonder. But it isn't something you can rush. (Sam's class has 3-6 year-olds so there is a very wide range of motor skills!)

Happily (to me, anyway) we are gently encouraged to make our own Valentines. Sam has always been on board for this, although the last two years he wanted to include cartoon or action figures. Last year it was Scooby Doo stickers on wax paper/melted crayon hearts (Martha meets Hanna/Barbera!) and the year prior it was Spiderman and Superman on . . . um, I can't remember.

This year we started with one simple challenge: how could we use the extra Binth card boxes we have laying around and make them a part of the Valentines? Sam knew immediately that he wanted to draw or write on the bottom/inside of the box and he wanted to include a little piece of candy. I had suggested that we make some sort of paper Valentine and glue it to the bottom side of the box and Sam completely checked me. "Mom, no one wants their Valentine glued down, you won't to be able to pick it up and hold it and keep it." He was totally right, I mean, what the heck was I thinking?

I then looked into paper Valentines, found templates for old-fashioned ones, but they didn't seem like something Sam would go for and then I remembered, origami! I searched for an origami heart and found lots of options. Ultimately we chose this fold as it has a little pocket/pouch on the front, perfect for tucking in a little piece of candy.

So once we had our vision in place, we turned it into a family project. Ted made the paper hearts as he is our in-house Origami Sensei. It took several tries, as it did with the Birthday Shuriken, but he finally figured it out. (Oh and for the record, these technically are not origami as you have to use little pieces of tape to hold the back spine and these are slightly different than the link I provided. The fold we ended up with is very close to an origami frog fold, believe it or not.) 

Then we got out the Binth boxes and a silver Sharpie. Sam started writing "Love, Sam" on the bottom of the box and experimenting with letter sizing . . .

and the playful and sometimes emphatic nature of the exclamation point. (!!!) It got to the point where the insignias with the most exclamation points were for his dearest friends. "This one is for Vincent" he said as he snuck the 18th exclamation point at the very end.

Sam glued a little felt heart on the back of the box, above his salutation. (These were the sort of cheesiest part of the project, but Sam liked sticking them and they added a little punch of color in the box. I bought them at Michael's next to all those foam craft supplies that completely make me cringe.
Well, sometimes you can't be a craft snob and this was one of those times.

I bought some Japanese gummy hearts at the Vietnamese grocery store down on Broadway. I am sure they are just teeming with corn syrup but heck, it is Valentines Day, right?

I tucked them into the hearts and then Sam tucked the hearts in the box. It was a nice assembly line. We did 12 boxes one night and the remaining 12 the following night.

Then Sam punched out a circle on pink paper and I wrote the child's name. I should have let Sam give this a go, but he said his hand was tired. We glued a circle to each box.

Hey, Naomi there got quite a few exclamation points . . . hmmmm. Anyhow, then Sam put the lid on each box and I tied a little purple string around it. I would say that this was probably a little over the top and not necessary but you know how I adore tying string around things.

Anyhow, it was a fun little project. And I liked how we did it together. (Except for Ben, but we kept him happy with his own blank Binth box and a big stack of those felt hearts. Another reason to not be a craft snob.) Oh and if any of you would like a few Binth boxes for a craft project of your own, give me a holler, seeing how I have a case in the closet. And there are 6 days 'till Valentines Day, you've got plenty of time! For crafty fun and lots of love. (!!!!!!!!)

details

This link, courtesy of the always amazing Maira Kalman, is mostly for my mother-in-law Franny, who went to DC for the inauguration and came back with wonderful, sometimes comical and very specific details about the entire event, mostly from the street level. (But the link is also for all of you faithful readers, of course!) Listening to Franny tell us all about all the happenings (over Chinese food) was like listening to something on the radio. The one story that sticks in my mind is her comment of how there were so many "minks on the Metro" as women made their way to the various balls. That and literally winding her way through the city, purple ticket be damned, and all the interactions with a gazillion different walks of life. I don't think she would want it any other way.  Well, maybe not so many mink coats.

Maira Kalman is also amazing in terms of zeroing in on fabulous, weird and gloriously unpredictable details. Like the red eyebrows on a security guard in The National Gallery. And so I thought you would like to be connected to her tribute to the Inauguration. (And Franny, I thought you might like it too.)

seed queen

I want this book, for reasons that I think are quite obvious . . .

  

But if you need a little nudging or convincing . . . Lillian Colton, she made portraits out of seeds. Here's a self-portrait.

and Johnny Cash

and Chicago's own B.B. King.

 

These are portraits out of seeds, people! Look closely. Oh my, Crazy good artistry.  (And just for the record, she wasn't crazy. She was just a nice lady who was committed to her craft.) You can learn more about Lillian Colton and her amazing life at this link. I love that she was basically a hairdresser doing all this incredibly wild high-meets-low folk art that seems to have just come to her completely naturally. There is a website called CropArt, dedicated to people who make art from seeds. I haven't researched it enough to know, but I am thinking I might be right in assuming she is the Queen of Seed/Crop Art.

What do you think you could do with seeds? Hmmm, there's a chance Sam and I will be playing with seeds and paper and glue in the next few days (after we finish our very big stack of Valentines, more on that next post!) just to appreciate how insanely difficult it would be to create a portrait from seeds. But to be honest, I don't know how much Sam will appreciate the brilliance of Lillian Colton, but he certainly loves gluing things to other things . . . so maybe he has a tiny bit of the artist gene. Or maybe he just likes playing with glue.