I waited too long to photograph fabric outside. We’re having WIND. I was stuck with either not photographing my latest fun stuff, or taking crappy photos. Herewith are some crappy photos.
As many of you know, I have a Spoonflower shop. If you click on a fabric design, then click on “All Products,” you can see how the fabric looks as table linens, bedding, curtains and wallpaper. I am having so much fun playing around, manipulating photos and creating fabric designs. Before I can sell my designs, I have to order proofs of the designs. These are the proofs I’ve gotten back.
I’m taking a yoga class this semester and I needed yoga pants. I altered a yoga pants pattern, got out the binders, dye and bucket, and made yoga pants. I put patch pockets on the pants, but I’m not thrilled about where I put them. Next time, I want to try welt pockets.
In case you’ve ever wondered, it’s not a good idea to try to do photography and bake simultaneously. The timer kept going off.
Sourdough cherry coffeecake with crumb topping.
I don’t run from my triggers because I don’t want painful memories to own me. I have been binging on ER. The other night, I watched a couple episodes that dealt with the suicide of one of the doctors. Having been suicidal and knowing someone who committed suicide, I respond to such stories on an emotional level. I had to spend quality time writing after watching the episodes. My first emotional art was ceramic. I didn’t understand what I was feeling until my feelings came out of my hands and into clay. I’m now having the same understanding by letting my feelings come out through my fingers and into my laptop. I was a writer long before my art meandered into clay, fiber and beads. Oddly, it has only been the last year that I’ve created emotional writing.
Jim and I went up to Aguirre Springs on Friday. I wanted to work with my macro lens, so that’s what I put on the camera. I wanted to experiment by using only one lens. My macro lens is a 90mm prime lens. It’s the only prime lens I own and I’m having a hard time adjusting to just one focal length. My other lenses are all zoom lens.
I was surprised at how detailed the lichen shots were. I didn’t bring a hand lens with me, so I couldn’t see all the details on the tiny lichens until I downloaded the photos.
I also got some shots of dead fronds that make for interesting fabric designs.
I’ve been playing with the photos to make fabric designs.
I wanted to do some portrait work while we were out hiking. I broke all the rules with this one, but I like how it turned out. Portraits are supposed to be done in portrait orientation, the person is supposed to be centered, and on and on and on.
I’m still having grief fallout. Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of the funeral for the person I knew who killed himself. I watched Law & Order SVU last night. The story line was about police committing suicide. The show was well done and realistic. And it sent me into a grief spiral. I never knew suicide was so hard on those left behind.
According to the National Institute of Health, 26% of the population of the US has a diagnosed mental illness. That doesn’t count the people who have a mental illness but haven’t been diagnosed. It took 35 years for me to have an accurate diagnosis. I am bipolar. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t bipolar.
I have a fascination with the Buffalo Psychiatric Center. This grand, old building is a monument to a time when mental illness was properly treated and a monument to the hell that mental institutions had become by the 1960’s.
The original building had a main building in the center and a wing with five sections on each side. One side was for women, the other side for men. The sections farthest from the main building were the smallest sections and were for the most violent patients. The theory was that mental illness could be cured by treating mentally ill people humanely. Work was considered a part of treatment. Men worked the gardens and in the wood shop. Women worked at fiber art. The hallways were wide with high ceilings and huge windows. Benches were placed in the hallways because it was thought, correctly, that isolation was harmful and that interaction with the other patients would be healthy. There was a library. There were lovely grounds with both flower and vegetable gardens. Sunlight was considered healthy and the huge windows let in as much sunlight as possible. Patients would gradually, as they became healthier, work their way towards the main building. The idea was to heal patients and then release them.
By the 1960s, the Psych Center had become the hell we think of when we think of mental institutions. Overcrowded to the point where patients were tied to beds in the hallways. Patients were over medicated and treated like something awful to be hidden away. When I lived a couple blocks from the Psych Center in the 1970’s, we had to go into the Psych Center to vote. Someone’s idea of a weird joke. God forgive me, I was reluctant and scared to enter the Psych Center. I had been taught, as had everyone else, that mental illness was evil, scary, and mentally ill people had to be locked away. I was taught that mental illness was a character flaw. My grandmother insisted that people could snap themselves out of depression and that seeing a psychiatrist was shameful and to be avoided no matter how ill a person was. She was horrified when I sought mental health treatment. She had been dead for 17 years by the time I was finally, accurately diagnosed. Probably a good thing. My diagnosis would have killed her if she had known I was mentally ill.
I think about how, if I had parents who actually cared, I would have been a patient in the Psych Center. Then I think about how, if I had parents who actually cared, I wouldn’t need mental health treatment.
In August 2018, I photographed the Psych Center. Attitudes, beliefs, and empathy flooded my thoughts. Part of the men’s wing had been demolished in the 1960s to make room for a “modern” hospital. It’s an ugly, square, lifeless brick building. There’s a high chain link fence surrounding the basketball court adjacent to the ugly building. A man, just one man, was on the court taking shots at the basket. I didn’t photograph him. He was entitled to privacy and to be treated like a human being rather than a freak in a zoo.
Lately, I’ve been going through my photographs and picking out shots to be manipulated and turned into fabric designs. I played with some of the Psych Center shots this morning.
Meandering Through Madness. The title reflects my personal journey through the mental health care system and my own mental illness.
I won’t be selling this design. It’s too personal. It’s too much of a gut punch. It’s too much my life. Eventually, I’ll have it printed on fabric and turn it into a quilted wall hanging which likely will never be hung. My emotional art isn’t pretty. It’s raw. It’s painful. It’s something no one in their right mind wants to look at. It’s also something that I have to make and something people should look at. Something people should feel. Something people should talk about.
You want pretty? Go to Walmart and buy a bad reproduction of an insipid painting that nicely matches the sofa.
You want art? Be prepared to be kicked in the stomach. That’s what art is supposed to do at least some of the time.
The fun just keeps coming. The washer is broken. Jim did some research, ran diagnostics on the washer, and ordered a part to solve the problem. He paid extra for expedited shipping that was supposed to take 2-3 days. It’s taking longer and I have a mountain of laundry. According to the tracking, the part is supposed to be delivered today.
I wear fleece socks because my feet get so cold. A couple years ago, I made five pair. They are all in the laundry basket waiting for the part to arrive so the washer can be fixed. I bought a yard of five different fleece fabrics when I made those socks. A yard of fleece makes 4-5 pair of socks.
I dug out my fleece and made five pair of fleece socks yesterday. I wanted to be able to differentiate between the original pairs and the new pairs, so the sole of each sock doesn’t match the rest of the sock.
Tomorrow, I’m going to have to make me more panties because I’m running out of those, too. No, I can’t just go to Walmart and buy new underwear. I intensely dislike buying something that I can make.
I’ve been working on jewelry and finished a number of necklaces. I’m not wild about these photos. Fortunately, I’m not buying film and paying for developing.
This one, and the one with the green pendant below, is made mostly with recycled glass.
I belong to the Digital Photography School page on Facebook. One of the members suggested I use spot metering. I have a Canon T3i. I went to the menu, chose metering mode, tried to change the mode from evaluative to spot, and the camera refused to cooperate. I looked up the manual and, according to the manual, I was doing everything right. What the manual fails to mention is that the camera must be in manual mode in order to change the metering. Having the camera in aperture priority isn’t manual enough for the camera to understand what I want. When it warms up a bit, which is supposed to happen over the weekend, I’ll take my jewelry outside and see what happens now that I’ve changed the metering.
When I bought the Tamron 150-600mm lens, I bought it as a bundle which included two very good filters – UV filter and polarizing filter. The filters run about $90. They filters were on back order, and they arrived today. We need to schedule a trip to Bosque del Apache so I can shoot wildlife. Because I live at 4000 feet above sea level, I need a UV filter in order to get color that isn’t washed out. The polarizing filter will help with swimming duck shots and sunlight bouncing off the water.
I am bleary eyed. We went to Bosque del Apache Wildlife Refuge and shot 837 photos. Even culling out the best shots, I’m not remotely close to halfway through editing and I’m bleary eyed. I’ve been having problems with Affinity, an editing program designed for Mac. It’s difficult to learn, difficult to use, and a PITA when I had to re-download the program. It’s a good program if you can learn how to use it and don’t mind being frustrated.
I usually shoot RAW because when I’m shooting jewelry or wildlife, I want the sensor to pick up the most amount of data. That’s why RAW files are so huge. To free up space on the laptop, I first sent all my RAW photos to external storage. Then, I converted the RAW photos on the laptop to JPEG and deleted the RAW version. I freed up 100+ gig of space on the laptop.
I bought a Tamron 150-600 lens recently and we went to Bosque del Apache to test out the lens. This is a 4-pound lens, which I knew when I bought it. I needed to brace my arm on whatever was handy in order to hold the lens reasonably still. Fortunately, the Vibration Control is incredible and most of my shots didn’t look like I was struggling with a heavy lens. The lens is designed to be used with a tripod. I don’t mind using a tripod, but I don’t like using one when I’m shooting wildlife. The wildlife will move way to fast to respond with a camera on a tripod. Spending more time at the gym will likely help with my ability to hold the lens still.
I’m still having problems with insomnia. I just don’t get tired so I go to bed well after midnight. Then I sleep late the next morning. I haven’t been able to get myself onto a sane sleep schedule. Because it gets dark about 5:00 PM and I prefer to shoot jewelry outside, I’m losing a whole lot of photography time with this off-kilter sleep schedule.
Some of the photos I’ve been taken are being used to design fabric. I manipulate the photos to make abstract designs. It’s a fun project. Eventually, I’ll sell my fabric designs on Spoonflower. First, I need to pick out the most suitable photos and order fabric proofs. Then, if the colors don’t need tweaking, I can offer the designs for sale.
We were at Bosque del Apache on Monday and Tuesday getting in some shooting and a little tiny vacation before Jim’s surgery.
Jim’s surgery on Friday went well.
I’ve been playing with the macro lens to learn what it will and won’t do. The portrait of Jim was taken with the macro lens. I focused on his face rather than his eyes and I didn’t pay attention to the background. I’m working on eliminating my tendency to take snap shots and concentrating on taking photographs. Some days are more successful than others.
Still working with the macro lens, I took some extreme closeups. Then, I played around in editing to see what I would get. I’m working my way towards designing fabric. I’m not sure I’ve gotten the fabric I want yet.
Original photo
With an overlay.
Original photo
I worked on some jewelry this week and spent a moment photographing the jewelry. I like the jewelry more than I like the photos.
I’ve got another necklace laid out, but I’m not sure I like how I have the beads arranged. I’ll leave the necklace alone for a day or two. It’s amazing how different a design looks after leaving it alone for a day.
Like my jewelry? Stop by my store, Deb Thuman Art, and see what I’ve been making lately. http://www.DebThumanArt.com
People have asked me where I get my art ideas from. Most of the time, I’ve no idea. Sometimes I see the finished piece in my head, then I work on the design in my sketch book. Lots of times, I figure it out as I go along.
Recently, we went to Bosque del Apache. I worked on shooting birds in flight. It’s harder than it looks. I had one shot I liked, but the sky was gray and the photo looked washed out. Here’s the unedited version.
I tried to fix the shot, but nothing seemed to work well.
It still looked washed out. I tried again.
Still didn’t like it.
So, I started to play with funky overlays and weird adjustments.
I didn’t like what I had created. Until……I made the funky edited version my profile photo on Facebook and it had been my profile photo for a few days. Then I started to see the funky version. Really see the funky version. It would make an interesting quilt. I’m working on the design on my iPad. iPad and iPencil make for a never ending sketchbook.
I haven’t figured out how to handle the background. I like the washed out sandy, pastel colors in the photo, but I haven’t figured out how to translate that to fabric. I’ve got some water color pencils and those might work. I’ve also got water color crayons. Maybe they would work. I’ve got fabric paint which might be the best approach. Now that it’s cooler, dyeing results in pastels rather than saturated colors. Saturated colors require sunlight and heat. Two things that are in abundance in the desert during the summer.
The only reliable pain killer for peripheral neuropathy, at least for me, is to make art. I’ve been working on my iPad using my iPencil. I played around and started working on an abstract self portrait. If I get the drawing worked out, I may turn it into a quilt.
I’ve also been making jewelry, ordering beads, and making more jewelry.
Thank God for rechargeable batteries or it would have been an expensive weekend. My macro lens arrived on Thursday and I started working with it on Friday. I needed a macro lens to get clear close up shots of the jewelry I make. This lens is my first prime lens – meaning it only shoots at one focal length, 90mm.
I spent Friday taking close up shots of my jewelry. I spent Saturday taking better close up shots and taking shots of the full piece of jewelry.
I spent Sunday taking better full shots of each piece of jewelry. Then, I edited the photos, wrote copy, and put each piece into my online store.
I finally finished the quilted tote bags and got some decent shots. Those also went into my online store.
I’m having a neuropathy flare up. Meds aren’t helping. CBD oil isn’t helping. Art is the only thing that reliably kills the pain. And so I made more necklaces.
I did a bit of experimenting when I was shooting the necklaces. I took the photos a couple hours before sundown. One set was shot in the sun, the other set shot in the shade. The photos shot in the sun suck. Horrible orange cast. Horrible shadows even though I used a flash. The second set of photos I shot in the shade. Still not quite what I want, but a whole lot better than the first batch of shots.
Shot in the sun.
I finally finished the quilted laptop totes and took photos. I’m not wild about the photos. The original version of these quilted totes was designed so I could carry my 15-inch laptop, charging cable, and computer glasses to and from Starbucks. The totes are practical for a whole lot more than just transporting a laptop. As soon as I get decent photos, these will go in my store.
I tweaked my mood stabilizer, and I’m feeling better. At least I’m not getting slammed by moods. Rapid cycling is having four or more episodes in a year. I had four in a week. The insomnia is still with me but Ambien is helping.
I started working on jewelry and I like what I came up with. I don’t like how I photographed the pieces. Natural light wasn’t enough light. I added two LED lights, one on each side. That made for nasty shadows. So I kept the LED lights and added on camera flash. I’m not wild about the results although I did get the colors accurate.
I worked a bit more on the suicide quilt. I don’t think that quilt should have a border, so I did a pillow case finish. Never did one of those before. Using Razzle Dazzle threads for hand quilting meant that the back of the quilt was nasty looking. The pillow case finish hides all that. I need to draft an eagle wing, get the wing drawn on the quilt, and quilt the wing with silver thread.
The university is having a symposium in November and, being manic, I thought it would be a great idea to propose doing a talk on suicide from the perspective of one who nearly killed herself and one who is left behind by someone else’s suicide. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I have two nightmares about this: no one will show up, or 500 people will show up. Rather than power point – something that’s guaranteed to have a technical problem no matter how much you practice – I’m using two quilts.
This is the quilt about when I nearly killed myself. It has a catchy title: Get Back Here Motherfucker, Sit Your Ass Down In That Chair, Shut The Fuck Up, And Listen To Me. That should explain why I don’t enter this quilt into a juried quilt show. It’s from a time when the neurologists were patting me on the head, smiling, and handing me prescriptions for useless drugs. They refused to answer any of my questions.
This is an axon with neurotransmitters represented by beads, coming out of the end of the axon and not being received by the dendrite.
The quilted part is an action potential. It’s a representation of the electrical impulse that goes the length of the axon.
There was another rape on campus. This time, the campus police actually did something. They temporarily banned the rapist from campus. Although I asked, the police refuse to give out the rapist’s name, photo or description. I’m so tired of being afraid. There’s probably a quilt in there somewhere.
Odd things happened this week. Another woman was raped on the New Mexico State University campus. This time, the campus police actually did something. They temporarily banned the rapist from campus. I’ve asked for a complete description and photo of the guy as well as the date he can return to campus. Naturally, I got no response. I’m tired of being scared. I’ll be making myself some decent cargo pants so I can have ready access to my pepper gel and stun gun.
Meanwhile, I got an email about a request for proposals for “Graduate, Online, and Nontraditional Student Recruitment, Retention, and Consulting Services.” Clearly someone screwed up because there’s no way the administration wants to hear what I have to say. This is going to be fun. My first suggestion will be to get rid of the Keystone Cops and replace them with a real police force. The reason for never arresting anyone for sexual assault or rape on campus is to dissuade women from reporting sexual assaults. If there are no reports, then the campus is a wonderful, safe place to send your daughter because there’s no crime on campus.
In a few weeks, I’ll be participating in a symposium on campus. Being manic, I decided it would be a great idea to bring two art quilts and talk about suicide from the perspective of nearly killing myself and the perspective of someone left behind after suicide of a friend. I have two nightmares about this. No one showing up and 500 people showing up. If nothing else, this is going to be an interesting experience.
I’ve put more scarves into my store.
I’ve bought a type of yarn I have never bought before and I’m making silky, chenille scarves. I like how this yarn feels. Depending on how well these two sell once I get them into my store, I may be working with more chenille yarn.
I went dog shopping at the shelter where Animal Control takes strays yesterday. This is so discouraging. I found a dog that was close to what I need. She’s listed as a year old, but I think she’s older. The prominent teats tell me she’s had at least one litter. She was shaking when she met me, but did calm down once she was sure I wasn’t going to hurt her. She’s mellow. She even likes me. But….she’s not housebroken and she isn’t trained to walk with a leash. I can’t leave a dog that’s not housebroken home alone while I’m at school. I can’t leave her in the yard. Even if we did break down and put up a fence, we’re out in the desert and have an assortment of critters. Rattlesnakes, javelinas, bob cat, coyotes and that’s just the predators I know about. You can’t fence out a rattlesnake and we’ve had rattlers lounging on the patio next to the door. It’s unsafe to have a dog running lose in the yard. And so, reluctantly, I decided this isn’t the dog for me.
For the last couple years, I’ve been trying off and on to find a service dog trained to work with someone who has bipolar disorder. I’ve found a place out of state that will charge $16,000 for the dog and I’d have to move there for four months to be trained with the dog. Nope.
I’ve found places where service dogs are trained to work with people who have PTSD. Nice, but PTSD isn’t bipolar disorder. That would be like suggesting you have open heart surgery when what you need is to have your gallbladder removed.
Finally, I found a trainer who not only trains dogs to work with people who have bipolar disorder, but comes to the house to train both the dog and the human simultaneously. There was some sort of dog convention in the convention center this weekend, and we got to meet the trainer. When I read all the things a psychiatric service dog can be trained to do, I nearly cried. Dogs can smell mood swings at the start of the swing. You’d think I could do better than this, but I don’t realize I’m manic until I’m bouncing off the ceiling or that I’m depressed until I’m suicidal. I’ve had insomnia for the last couple weeks and I’ve never had insomnia. I only figured out the day before yesterday that I’m having a manic episode. Manic is annoying, but depressive is terrifying. The suicide rate for people who have bipolar disorder is 20 times that of the rest of the population. Depressive episodes are life threatening.
The dog can be trained to make sure I take my meds at the same time every day, get up at the same time and go to bed at the same time. Routine can be extremely helpful in managing bipolar disorder.
The dog, most likely a rescue dog, will cost me about $200 and will already be house broken, neutered/spayed, and have up to date vaccinations. Training will last 9-18 months at a cost of $200 a month. When the training ends, I’ll be in a position to train another dog when the first dog retires.
The trainer suggested getting a dog 2-3 years old. We have two cats and the cats aren’t going anywhere. The dog has to be okay living with cats. Also dogs that age are easiest to train. My dog, when I get one, will be trained to get on the shuttle bus at school, go to class with me, get on a train (can’t wait to take an overnight train trip) and fly. The flying training encompasses everything up to getting through airport security. Airlines have to let a person fly with a service dog and cannot charge additional for the dog. Yes, there are airlines that do that. As my first amendment teacher in law school said, don’t assume something is legal just because someone is doing it. However, flying with a service dog means being all but guaranteed a seat in the front row where there’s the most leg room. Jim is 6’3” and needs extra leg room.
If it’s a place where the public can go – airport, restaurant, post office, class room – the facility must allow service dogs. No exceptions. It’s federal law and most states have a parallel law.
I’m in the process of setting up an appointment for both the trainer and I to go to a dog rescue organization and see if they have an appropriate dog for me. Once I get the dog that’s right for me, training can begin immediately. I’m so psyched about this. For the first time in my life, I’m going to be able to live a normal life. I wonder what that’s going to feel like.
I’ve been working on art quilts. I’ve got the quilting done on the memorial quilt about the people murdered at the temple in Pittsburgh last October. The Hebrew word in the middle is Chai. It means life. There is a quilted star for each of the 11 people murdered. The red threads are temporarily holding the layers together. I need to trim the quilt, pick out a backing, finish the piece, and launder it.
I’ve got a good start on the quilt about someone I knew who committed suicide. The horizontal threads are temporarily holding the quilt together. There’s a trick to photographing shiny stuff. Obviously, I don’t know what that trick is. I find myself working out emotions while working on this quilt.
Last weekend, I made Madelines. They are a French cookie. I wanted to follow the recipe exactly, and I browned the butter. I’ve never done that before. Did you know that when butter is sufficiently browned, the butter foams, climbs out of the pot and explores the top of the stove? This is why I have a gas stove with enclosed burners.
Next, the recipe said to chill the batter at least 20 minutes, then pipe the batter into the wells of a Madeline pan. Except the batter was too cold and there was no way I could pipe it. So I spooned the batter into the wells. I had used goop on the wells, but I didn’t use enough and the cookies stuck to the pan. Jim did something magic and got the Madelines out of the pan. I used more goop, and the batter was sufficiently warm to pipe. These came out of the pan easily. More goop, and more piping except I didn’t have enough batter to fill every well. Baked on goop is nasty. Getting it off the pan sucks.
The Madelines tasted good. The next morning, I had some Madelines for breakfast. I felt something hard and swallowed before I realized what the hard thing was. It was a gold crown. Knowing it would be cheaper to have the crown reattached than to have a new crown, I spent the next week pooping into a strainer. Jim did the search and rescue part. The plan was to retrieve the crown, wash it off, then use my Instant Pot as an autoclave. No crown. Finally, I gave up and called the dentist.
My birthday was on Thursday and we wanted to celebrate. Except I had a naked tooth that was starting to bother me. I could only chew on one side. We went to Denny’s because you get a free slam on your birthday. My mother tried to force feed me a fried egg when I was little. She told me I wasn’t getting anything else until I ate the egg. After a couple meals and me not eating the egg, she gave up. I don’t care for eggs. Slams come with eggs. I ordered the slam. Jim ordered French toast. When our food arrived, we swapped plates. I had something I could eat. I had to show my driver’s license to prove it was my birthday so we could get the slam for free. Starbucks is next door to the Denny’s, and I have the Starbucks app. If you have the app, you get a free treat on your birthday. I got my Frappuccino for free, and Jim got his two Frappuccinos for half price because it was happy hour day. Dinner and desert for two for a total of about $11. Do we know how to party or what?
The next morning, I went to the dentist. He said he needed to do additional prep on the tooth, and I got to enjoy two things I hate. I detest getting Novocain and I got two shots. At the end of the drilling, they took an impression of the tooth. I detest having impressions taken even more than I detest getting Novocain. The inside of my mouth is small and the trays never quite fit. They are always a little too big.
Now that I had a temporary crown and I could chew on both sides of my mouth, we could eat at a restaurant and I could order real food. Except I couldn’t. While my mouth and tongue were numb, I bit my tongue. My tongue hurt, and I needed to take an NSAID to make the pain and swelling of the gum around my tooth stop. We went to Starbucks and I discovered that Frappuccino is a great way to apply ice to a tooth.
The next day, with a not sore mouth and a tongue that was almost normal, we went to Olive Garden for lunch. Olive Garden will give you a free dessert if you tell them you are celebrating your birthday. I ordered the Brownie Lasagna. Thin slices of brownie with cream cheese frosting between the layers and on top. Chocolate shavings on top and a raspberry drizzle. Starbucks again. I needed to order one more item to get the extra stars. The problem with the Starbucks app is it’s so easy to order far more often than I would order without the app. But I get a free Frappuccino with 150 points. I save up the points; and when we travel, we have free Starbucks drinks.
My classes started on my birthday. I’m taking cell biology and immunology this semester. My immunology teacher said we may have talked to our grandparents or great-grandparents about life before vaccines in the 1950’s. Hey! I’m 67. I was born the year of the last polio epidemic in the US. I got all of the childhood diseases because there were no vaccines for them. I am not old enough to be a grandparent. My brain is 35. The rest of me isn’t.
One of my teachers was astonished to learn I’m not working towards a degree. She asked if I were taking the class for fun. Yep. We get 6 credits free each semester because Jim works for the university. I’ve got two undergrad degrees, a law degree, and no desire to have another piece of paper. One article I came across while researching PTSD was the fact that learning something new would repair the damage done to the hippocampus. It must be working because I’m finally past the worst of PTSD. No more nightmares. No more memories that take over my brain. Now, I only have uninvited memories that have no power to hurt me. They annoy me, but they don’t’ hurt me.
I take class notes on my iPad. I’ve got an iPencil so I can make drawings in my notes. The iPencil comes with a little adapter for charging and a spare point. Both are little and easy to use. I decided a zippered pouch would be good to have and would keep the tiny parts safe. I’ve got lots and lots and lots of fat quarters and I picked out two that I thought would look nice together. I worked out the pattern. What I wanted was the contrasting fabric on the back of the pouch to continue over the top of the pouch and an inch or so down the front. Except I didn’t make the pattern right.
Version I, frontVersion 1, back
I still have lots and lots and lots of fat quarters, so I picked out two fabrics, tweaked the pattern and got the zippered pouch I wanted in the first place. I’m not sure what I will do with the second zippered pouch.
Version 2, front
Version 2, back.
Today, I’m making my birthday cake – red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. I’m going to be learning how to use Wilton’s Icing Gel and to work on my piping skills. I’ve always used the grocery store food coloring that comes in little bottles. I chose the red color that has no taste. This baking stuff is fun and helps keep down the anxiety. As long as the butter stays in the pan, the batter can be piped, and my crown stays attached to my tooth.
I learned some things this week. I learned that saving up quilted tops until I have 4 laptop totes to quilt is not the best idea I’ve had. I’m really tired of free motion quilting. I learned that it’s possible to put too much Sewer’s Aid on a spool of thread. I learned that an incredible amount of lint builds up in the bobbin area when quilting. After I bought my machine last summer, I bought a little vacuum cleaner specially designed for cleaning sewing machines and sergers. I’ve been vacuuming out the lint from the sewing machine after each time I use it.
I learned that I was right when I avoided the cloud. The feds don’t need a warrant to go through everything you’ve got stored on the cloud. Don’t bother telling me you don’t have anything you wouldn’t mind the feds seeing. That’s not the point. We’re guaranteed the right to privacy and we need to be careful never to take that right for granted. I couldn’t get the music I downloaded from the iTunes store to go from the laptop to the iPad. I thought I had configured the cloud to only take my music. Wrong. Damn cloud sucked in my documents. I’ve got legal documents stored on my laptop. I’ve got drafts of the novel I’ve been working on stored on my laptop. Crap. And my iPhone keeps telling me I have to set up authentication to allow what’s on my phone to go on the cloud. NO!!! NEVER!!! If my phone is seized by the feds, they need a warrant to search my phone. Put my phone contacts on the cloud, and no warrant needed. This is serious stuff. Remember, people died so you could have the rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights.
I learned I don’t care for Dijon Wasabe salad dressing. Too hot/sharp for my taste. For years, I grew horseradish and made fresh horseradish. I’m from Buffalo – home of Beef on Weck adorned with fresh horseradish. I understand horseradish. I like horseradish. I don’t care for wasabe.
I played with different colors and different ways to lay out the squares for the laptop totes. I’m always amazed at how much the pattern changes depending on color choices and how the squares are put together.
I’ve done FMQ quilting for the top three. I was working on the bottom one when the thread got persnickety and I put too much Sewer’s Aid on it.
Last Saturday, a man armed with an assault rifle walked into the Walmart in El Paso and started shooting. 22 dead. 24 wounded. I was in shock and not doing too well for a couple days. I’d turn this into a quilt, but I don’t think I could stand to look at it.
My friends have been telling me I need to slow down and that I keep trying to do too much. I should have paid attention. Now, whether I like it or not, I have to slow down.
Jim has two tears in his rotator cuff and needs surgery. One tear is “medium” and the other “major.” We’re waiting for workers comp to approve the surgery. Once Jim has surgery, he won’t be able to move his arm for 6 weeks.
Meanwhile, I’ve been working on little ceramic trays because they are a huge seller for me. I’ve got a fully-manual, gas fired, top loading kiln. I’m short. The kiln is deep. Jim has always loaded and unloaded the kiln for me. There’s concern that I won’t be able to load the kiln by myself. Jim won’t be able to load the kiln at all. I’ve got two dozen little trays made. They need to be bisque fired, glazed and glaze fired.
I was looking forward to setting up at the weekly farmers market in November and December. The Saturday after Thanksgiving is a remarkably profitable day for me. Jim helps me with the market. I could probably get the EZ-Up set up by myself – provided I did enough swearing. What I cannot do is drive the truck. The truck is a standard and because of the peripheral neuropathy, I can no longer feel the clutch. It’s too dangerous for me to drive the truck. The EZ-Up won’t fit in the car. Worse, we needed both vehicles to get everything – EZ-Up, tables, jewelry, ceramics, fiber art – to the market. Setting up at the farmers market this year won’t happen.
Jim won’t be able to drive the Mini, also a standard or the truck because he won’t be able to move his right arm. So much for shifting. My car is an automatic. We’re going to be a one-car couple with wildly different schedules. We have gym memberships, but we don’t go to the same gym. I picked the gym that’s right on the way from school to the post office where I get all my mail. Very convenient. It’s not convenient for Jim which is why he has his membership at a different gym. Jim works at the local university and I get to take up to six credits for free each semester. At least we’ll be going to the same place. I’ve got classes two days a week. Although I’d love to have an 8:00 class, just about no one teaches an 8:00 class. Jim has to be at work at 7:30. My classes are both in the building next to the library so I’ll have something to do for three and a half hours before class. I’ll need to find something to do for two hours after classes and we can go home together. I have a feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of hand quilting this semester. There’s only so much studying I can do before my eyes fall out of my head.
I have my online store, Deb Thuman Art. I was considering making laptop totes to sell. Fiber art is easy and relatively inexpensive to ship. I never have to worry about fiber art getting broken. I don’t sell ceramic pieces online because of the chance of breakage and the cost of shipping. I now need to spend quality time making laptop totes. My sewing machine was in the shop for its 60,000 mile checkup and I brought it back home Thursday. I need to pick out fabrics from my 3 miles of fabric collection then start piecing a laptop tote.
I physically cannot do the things I want to do so I will have to learn to slow down. This slowing down is going to take some getting used to.
Wednesday evening, there was weird light outside so I grabbed the camera.
Deb's Art 