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Category Archives: earth

A little meditative walk on Sunday does my eyes some good.

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Images that must be seen by Richard Mosse, today in the New York Times

Available at AREAWARE from Fort Standard. I love these, their shape, where they are already a little bit worn gives the illusion they are a hand-me down from your favorite aunt or uncle from their child hood. The perfect blend of vintage-modern.

Here is a stop- motion ‘how it’s made’ video. So cute, I want to have them all.

<p><a href=”″>Balancing Blocks</a> from <a href=””>Part &amp; Parcel</a> on <a href=””>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>


Where I must be tomorrow night.

You Decide:

Goals in life now include:

1. Learning to tango

2. Owning a dress in the colors of the woman in this video.

3. Finding a man to tango with

4. traveling to cool and colorful places to tango.

(also reminds me of the strategic color placements in costumes and scenery of the Umbrellas of Cherborg – check out the trailer!)


The power of color in the form of lighting and makeup to change, morph and create. Stunning.

The colors here are looking fresh and new!

[via Flavorpill]

(If possible play this song while watching the video – I originally uploaded it with the song attached, but was in copyright infringement)

Saturday morning was yet another unseasonably warm day here in Brooklyn. A complete opposite of last week. I woke early so that I had the chance to ride a few laps around Prospect Park before class.  Riding for me is always a way to zone out of the every day stressors in life, and to hone in on my desires and wants for the day, and my life.  Riding in Prospect Park can also be a bit of a dodge ball game –  depending on how many people are out at any given point during the day. Saturday morning as I looked at how each person walked, ran, or rode as if each had a string connected to them and what would that weave of crossings make.  I thought about all the crossings we make in life.  How is it that some stay with us close, and others float by and others we never cross with?  I think it would make an interesting art project, the tangled fabric of our lives…

It was ironic, that my piece was woven just as my thoughts were earlier in the day. I had not anticipated that I would have such extreme floats across on my weft as I did, but they were beautiful and now tell a full story.

From far away, you can almost see my hopeful hexagon. I like how it came out as if it’s raining. If I get the chance to do this again I think I might have some better idea on how to make it work, for sure it will be another unique piece.

Each of the above pieces represents about fifteen hours labor of love. The actions taken to get to this final stage were at times tedious, most of the time fun, but every step I took gave me a greater appreciation for every garment I own.

Thanks so much Cynthia at Weaving Hand for proving the space and Rachel Miller for her unwavering patience and guidance through this beautiful process!

When I moved to Greenpoint, Brooklyn in 1999, it was pretty much the last place the city would plow- particularly Franklin Street, just one block from the river.  Those of us, the recent immigrants from Poland and the Dominican Republic, and I would make our way to the grocery store and the G-train (in the hopes it was running) in the snow storm.  The snow would be half melted before the city would come and plow for us, by that time, the snow was transformed into brown slush and would then be pushed  re-covering the cars and make a new mountain at the cross walk we had to re-navigate.

But yesterday, my first snowfall in Lefferts Garden, I felt like I had finally arrived.  I woke at 4 am to the sound of snow plows cleaning up the pithy snow storm mother nature gave us. What!!!??? On my day off I have to awake at 4 am!!?- and yet, What?! I live somewhere the city cares to plow? I think the later is the more interesting question. The ironies of living farther out in Brooklyn than I ever could have imagined, yet on a busy street. I did fall asleep again, and woke later to photograph, and instragram this:

Yup, the view out of my window, Brooklyn, New York.  How did I get so lucky?

There was no biking to weaving class today, so I pulled on my new boots and applied lots of layers of big clothes and I headed out on foot for Weaving Hand.

On the way I pondered snowflakes.  Hexagons of nature…the above picture I found years ago on Wikipedia.

I stopped and looked at the snowflakes. I thought it ironic and beautiful that the hexagon pattern from the sidewalk peeked out from below the piles of snow; millions of tiny, individual and unique snowflakes in the shape of hexagons- that covered the sidewalk at the north end of Prospect Park, as I was on my way to uncover my ‘Hopeful Hexagon’ from last week.

Needless to say, I was a little late to class, everyone already enjoying tea and hardboiled eggs made by Cynthia.

It seemed everyone knew what to do, except me.  I started simply by taking off my yellow tape binding and immediately started to look like an indigenous indigo dyer with blue fingertips and filty nails.  I have to admit the process of unwrapping was a little anti-climatic.  My ties were not that strong and a lot of dye wiggled its way underneath.  I had to let this go, and, honestly is it so bad to have a bunch of died yarn in indigo?  Absolutely not.

Mia was sans vintage glasses this week, but equally funky and such a fun element to our class.  Here she is after her tape has come off and is about to start setting up the loom.

Mia clearly knew what she was doing and set up this beautiful warp.  I can’t wait to see what she weaves with next week.

I, on the other hand, started with this lump of yarns…in search of my hopeful hexagon that I tried so hard to bind off last week.

Rachel was there for me.  I’m so thankful for the small class where I’ve had a lot of individual attention to make sense of all of this.

I was after a few tries able to make sense of this.  The talk in the room was that this part in the process isn’t fun for anyone.  Even Susan talked about how she keeps thinking of ways to present this work to her grandson as a fun and exciting way to help Grandma.

I had not such a fun time with this warping the loom business.  MANY times I threaded and re-threaded to make sure it was all straight, and did not have such focus that I had last week.  It was truly a mind-warping experience.  Bad weaving joke, I know.

Five hours later I had this; I have warped a loom!  Above you can see my hopeful hexagon, or not really.  In a way it is a bit the negative of the sidewalk I saw on my way to class, I am looking for one specific hexagon to come out of the dark indigo instead of the many that were present in the white of the snow. Regardless it is in its own way very beautiful, unique, and not like any of the other Ikat dyes in the world.  My own snowflake.  Next week all of this labor will start to take shape into a woven article.