Jeans Mama

Until I went to college I suffered from the rule that only boys could wear jeans to school. How fair was that? Why did boys get all the good stuff--like taking shop rather than home ec? (Well, if you understand basic feminist ideas, you can answer that question yourself.)

The inevitable happened: the day I went to college I donned the uniform of the 1970s--jeans. In addition, working with fabric has given me a deep respect for denim, especially old denim. None of those new-fangled stretchy jeans for me.

Consequently, I can't bear to toss out old jeans. I have a nice collection on my studio shelves, besides stacks of jeans that are still wearable in the closets. 









I've used up a little bit of my collection in purses. 














The last few days have been errand days...groceries, waiting rooms, eating out and socializing. 






Yesterday, I felt kind of uninspired to create (a rare occurrence) and empty... couldn't even pick up a needle. 


The Pomegranate Tree wasn't speaking to me, even though I have been working diligently around the edges. 

This morning I ran across a pair of Mr. M's old jeans that needed a repair. I tried them on...they were oh, so soft. They spoke to me. 

Then I remembered a young woman I had seen a couple days ago in a restaurant. Very stylish, wearing jeans that were thoroughly ripped on the front and only held together by the back! Hmmf--scandal! Think of all the possible, beautiful repairs one could do...

Which brings me back to Mr. M's jeans. I asked him if he wanted them repaired in the standard, discreet way. He said I could have them...ahhhh, the possibilities. I went digging in my fabrics.

Here's what's sitting on my sewing machine table right this minute...and I feel so energized! 

I'll be able to get back to the Pomegranate Tree tonight with a light heart and hand...once I get started mending that hole!

Linked to Nina Marie's "Off the Wall Friday."

Inching Along

My days follow a simple routine so somehow I manage to make progress on complex work, if only at a snail's pace.

This piece has me reflecting on aging, retirement, and how life wears thin and develops holes and tears here and there. And on the increased effort required to maintain good health. 

And how life transforms into something different, something that has its own beauty. My process and my thoughts intermingle as I stitch. 

I feel like this is the hardest piece I've ever done on a technical level, but then again, maybe not...And I feel like this is the hardest part of my life, but then again, maybe not...


Once in awhile the routine gets broken by a drive into Tunis. Last Thursday, I sketched people walking, a baby in the waiting room of a medical lab, a Sultan and clients in the restaurant "Sultan Ahmet." 

<--The Sultan and I. 

The page was "pre-painted," meaning I was going to do something else and changed my mind. All in all, an enjoyable and creative autumn day. 

Linked to Nina Marie's "Off the Wall Friday."