Bear With Me, Part 3

    May you have a Bear-y Happy New Year ! ! !

Bear With Me, Part 2

So my teddy bears traveled from the States to Tunisia in a suitcase many summers ago. One little 11-in/28-cm pink bear began looking shabby because it was made out of a synthetic fleece that pilled. 

Having a deep respect for the way the joints are made (getting the joints tight challenges patience), I couldn't bear seeing this bear on the downhill. Time to recycle:

                               The pink bear became the patchwork bear.

The fabrics came from my collection of recycled flea market finds.

As I was tired of the pink, I went back to the traditional brown...sort of.

With a long needle, I used a sort of running stitch/back stitch to sew down the patches. A beast to do!

Given the times, I would name the bear at this stage the "Censored T. Bear." Working on the face was a bit disconcerting: dolls and bears seem to pick up a bit of personality of their own. I kept telling myself that I didn't believe in voodoo dolls and that this toy wasn't drowning under the fabric!

And the T. Bear rides off into the sunset....

           

Bear With Me, Part 1

'Tis the season...to wear wooly sweaters and create, give, or play with cuddly, fuzzy toys. Therefore, this seems a good time to bring up the subject of teddy bears. Like many crafters, my mom went through a teddy bear phase in the 1980s--and I got caught in the ricochet. I even did a number of drawings and watercolors. 
        In her usual, enthusiastic manner, she bought numerous books and fabrics, collected patterns, and made bears. As she was a chain knitter (otherwise she would have been a chain smoker), she collected knitting patterns for the bears’ clothing and accessories as well. During one of my summer visits, then, we had a teddy bear 'workshop' in which we chose several patterns, bought fabric, and then, we each made bears. 

My mom's bears were better. She could do anything if given a pattern and so she made many and became an expert. 

Here are my three "twin" bears. I inserted a music box with “The Teddy Bears’ Picnic” song into the burgundy bear. 


My mom must have given most of the bears away as gifts, but the ones she made with me that summer always stayed with her. And I never understood the significance of that until I shared this story with you. They were “family,” she had made them with me.

Now the bears are reunited and sit on my grandmother’s chair with the Cinderella doll that my mom knit from a pattern. 

        And may you have a Bear-y Happy Holiday Season with your loved ones!

News Update: A Rocky Road Ahead

The news took over this week.

      Concerning the Arab Revolution, there is some good news. Yemen’s dictator Salah finally negotiated with the opposition parties to leave power and the country. OK, so he’s gone. Problem: his family and the whole power structure remain in place. Elections have been promised in two months, however, if the current government runs those elections, then nothing much will change. The people have not bought it and continue to protest and civilians continue to die everyday. It’s a rocky road ahead.

       Dozens of Syrian civilians also continue to die everyday while peaceful protests continue. Unfortunately, the US government may attempt to weigh in on the side of the revolution in order to maintain influence in the region, giving the revolution a bad name (messy politics in this part of the world). Hard to predict the outcome. I salute the courage of the Syrian people. It’s a rocky road ahead.

       Egyptians protested in Tahrir Square once again to oust the prime minister, viewed as a Mubarak supporter. So the ruling military council (which basically has a death grip on the country) named another prime minister who had served in the Mubarak government—unacceptable in the eyes of protesters, as one might imagine. In the meantime, Egyptians elected a parliamentary assembly to formulate a new constitution. However, the military council intends to have the final say on any proposed constitution. The military council (Mubarak’s cohorts) obviously wants to keep power, influence, and wealth. It’s a rocky road ahead.

      The new transitional Libyan government is having difficulties bringing armed groups under control and collecting weapons, while trying to form a new army. Tripoli is under lockdown and militia groups have been asked to return home. Armed groups have attempted to cross the border into Tunisia and when refused, have been known to open fire on authorities. Tunisians living in towns along the Libyan border, the very people who opened their homes to Libyan refugees, appear to be fed up with the lawlessness that war has unleashed. Tunisian authorities have closed the border until the Libyan government can send competent authorities to control the situation.

       Members of Tunisia’s constitutional assembly seem to have forgotten that their role is to write a new constitution. A tug of war has developed as certain groups demand a “piece of the cake” in the new government. In the meantime, the Central Bank has issued warnings that the country is on the brink of bankruptcy and protests continue to cripple the economy. Liquid bottled gas, which many people use to cook and heat, has become scarce as temperatures drop.

       As if there weren’t enough urgent problems, a university in Tunis closed temporarily because bearded men beseiged it, demanding that women students wear a “niqab” (black fabric covering the head and face) if they wanted to take their exams. I would first comment that I have nothing against women who choose to “veil”, that is, wear a headscarf and modest clothing if that is their choice. One’s clothing should not get in the way of attending school, voting, working, or anything else for that matter. However, attacking university women and imposing a way of dress—which has no foundation in Tunisian tradition, by the way (this comes from the Gulf)—impinges on women’s rights. History shows that the attack upon women is not a question of religion (Islam preaches moderation), but rather a bid for power that makes use of women as pawns. Why don’t they go and empty the numerous bars of drunken men? It seems these men perceive university women not only as a threat but  the “weakest link” as well. Economic and social classes also enter into the question, as new groups struggle to fill the power vacuum and push aside established upper and middle classes.

       And I would venture to guess that Tunisia is doing better than anybody else. 

Indeed, it’s a rocky road ahead.

Thanksgiving and Pomegranates

Every Thanksgiving (in the U.S., fourth Thursday in November) my parents took us to another town an hour away to feast with family friends. And every Thanksgiving my mom would rave about the hostess’s salad, a concoction of lettuce, nuts and….. (drumroll) pomegranates. My mom gushed over those pomegranates every (yeah, red, bold, underlined, and italicized) year. My mother's enthusiasm remained a mystery--I didn’t get it. Sitting in front of me was a salad containing maybe five little grains with barely a hint of red. MY description would have been “crunchy and bitter.” However, the meal was always exceptional despite the pomegranates and the company was good. 

         But I must have been scarred by those pomegranates (or my mom's raving) for I have compensated. My garden now contains a small orchard of REAL pomegranates. Allow me to show you my fruit:

And the grains. Note the lovely color, the deep, ruby red--ahhhhhhh.

Need I add that they are sweet? 

Pomegranates have temporarily taken over my artwork as well.

This is a work-in-progress, part of a much larger piece that began as a sketching-on-fabric project, which quickly got out of hand and multiplied.  

My holiday wishes for all: May you enjoy the company of loved ones, may your turkey be plump and tender, and may you taste pomegranates that are red, juicy, and sweet.

“Just use it” and Further Thoughts on Accumulation

Yes, more stories come to mind on this favorite of subjects and my post on “The Art of Accumulation” (here) seems to have provoked some discussion among friends. A family member reminded me of the time I hauled something to the dumpster on the main road and my husband went into such shock that I had to go retrieve it. A friend’s husband built two rooms in the back of their garden to contain the overflow. And someone built a whole house for their daughter who only visits in the summer, because she not only accumulates, but collects as well—a daunting combination.

         To my way of thinking, then, the best projects are those that make use of several accumulated items. I need to make a dent in that pile of small clay pots in which plants are sold. The Before:

Well, how about stacking them? The After:

Much better. One of my next projects will be three or four stacked pots for a more sculptural effect.

Then there was a forlorn bidet, removed during bathroom renovation, that sat in a hidden corner of the garden for two years.

At first, I thought that if I smashed it to smithereens, I could make a really lovely pot from the pieces. It is porcelain after all. My husband objected and mentioned the price (couple hundred dollars, at least—it was imported). Ok, ok. However, the faucet had to be removed as it wasn’t intact and there was a rusty bolt that required removal as well—his job. Half way through the nasty removals, he said: “Wouldn’t you just like to smash this for pots?”!! Not anymore--I had other plans! The trick was to find the right spot.

Wrong spot--it sticks out too much...however, I did find a better place. Next, I placed a tile at the bottom of the bowl and an old paint can. Then I added the rocks for drainage.

And finally the dirt mix.

You may be wondering about the paint can in the dirt. The After:

The paint can serves as the base for the mosaic pot. If the faucet had been intact, I would have used the bidet as a quirky bidet plant container and would not have hidden it’s original function. However, as it stood I had to find a spot that it would fit into discretely. I planted some spillers that will eventually hide the form a bit and I'll add other pots around it.

That’s a successful upcycling project—three items into one. My new tiered planter provides more cool green on my patio for the hot summer months. 

And that's probably the closest I'll ever get to a tutorial.

Steps Along the Way

A small quilt marks my foray into needle-turn appliqué and social/political comment. Death of a Forest (August 1991, 17 1/2 x 23"/ 44cm x 58cm) contains a bit of everything : machine piecing and quilting, machine and hand embroidery (French knots) and appliqué and reverse appliqué.

The image of the boxed-in old-growth forests of the Pacific Northwest (USA) lingers in my mind until today, reinforced by the view of patchworked logged mountains seen when flying into Portland, Oregon. The brown appliqué represents blight and the red appliqué, well, that’s obvious. Concerning technique, I found that the needle-turn appliqué allowed me to create interesting and unusual forms.

       Boxes keep turning up, as in Pandora’s Box, no. 91 (see here), inspired by the first Gulf War. In 1991, my war series began and has expanded to include revolution today.

Then La Porte au fond du couloir (The Door at the End of the Hallway, November 1991, 41"x43"/ 1m04x1m10, machine pieced and quilted) took boxes to an extreme. It started as a drawing exercise from which I made a complex block pattern. The angles were a bear. Talk about learning technique the hard way. This was a one-time-only technique.

       I experimented with form, color and technique, creating Etudes, Improvisations, and Themes and Variations. Here is a small study still using a block format, Etude I (September 1991, 24"x24"/ 60cmx60cm, machine pieced and quilted).

This inspired Etude II  (January 1994, 55"x60"/ 1m38x1m50), which is based upon the block unit from Etude I.

Etude II contains some hand painted fabrics and is the the first piece in which I sewed down bits of fabric to create depth.

In 1993, I created Flowers for Abou Jihad (see here) which took about three years to complete and which was based on a pattern I drew. Sometimes ideas take over—I had to complete this quilt the way it dictated, despite the extreme tediousness of working with a detailed pattern in silks, brocades, and satins, along with cottons. Another one-time-only technique.

       Although I claim all my artwork to this point, Running With the Crowd (October 1994, 40"x37"/ 1m x 95cm) represents the beginning of a preference for certain techniques and a confidence in my artistic voice. This piece was juried into the International Quilt Festival in 1998.

The unusual border fabric (commercial) was a flea market find.

I paper-pieced the light source, and the “crowd” running away from the light source is free-form needle-turn appliqué. Once again, the central element is boxed in with only small openings leading in and out. Ultimately, this is a statement about conformity and constraints. I am tempted to say that not much has changed in the world since then, however, given recent events, that might not be accurate. We will wait and see. And then make art about it.
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News Update: The flood waters have receded and fortunately it was only rain water--no messy cleanup. I may lose a few plants, but nothing major.