An Intriguing Museum Visit, 1

A friend from the States came to visit so we went to the Carthage Museum, which sits on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean and Carthage, now a suburb of Tunis.








We saw the usual ruins (not as good as Uthina, in my opinion)

and the usual Roman statues. 

Having a vested interest in fabric, I was rather taken by the carved draped clothing and the embroidery in marble.














Inevitably, however, my eye stopped at the mosaics.

Such remarkable designs and borders!

Now who wouldn't see a quilt design here?

On Birthdays and Bartering

Sometimes one must outdo oneself when it comes to planning birthday parties for grandkids. It's not that a party has to be more expensive or bigger and better. It's rather that an interesting touch is required, something different that becomes memorable, legendary even.

I had been racking my brains for weeks while I stitched away on White. Friends would follow along and comment over on MulticoloredSnippets, watching my s-l-o-w stitching progress. When I announced that I was going to slice White, there was an uproar and I could tell that one friend in particular might like this piece--intact, that is.

This got me to thinking...she made something that I really wanted and that I had no intention of learning how to do. So I called her for a little bartering session and she was amenable to my proposal.


I finished White (28"x15"/71cm x 38cm). 









My friend intends to hang it between glass (fine by me, it's a dusty country) with a light behind it. And I know that she will give it a good home.

In return, the double birthday party for GD1 (first granddaughter, now 11 years old) and my daughter was a smashing success--thanks to my friend's creation.

Yup. A topsy-turvy cake that cannot be gotten anyplace in Tunisia. I told her to decorate it however she wanted (with an 11-year-old in mind)--just dazzle me.

And dazzled I was. She hand made all the butterflies and flowers and spent more time on this cake than she had on any other. Everyone at the party was dazzled as well and nobody wanted to cut into the cake. However, the birthday girls finally did the job and we all admired the construction. Of course, it tasted divine.

My friend says she's getting the better deal. I say it was a fair deal because I couldn't have had this super-duper birthday party without that fancy cake--it was the legendary touch.

He Went to Work Every Day

I remember when my grandfathers retired. Then I saw my father and his friends retire. After that, my husband and his friends began to retire. After years of observation, I can only conclude that retirement is difficult for men.

Having restrained, constrained, and contained myself for the last few months, a pressing idea burst forth--despite my lengthy To-Do-List.

I cut strips from men's shirts for the background which serves as a metaphor for life. However this looked a bit too blah. Life does have fiery moments, after all. 











I don't throw out much, but rather reincorporate bits and pieces from previous projects. Leftover constructed fabrics from Color Theme & Variations II (1998) added some pizzazz.

And a gray strip from the background of Pink-Red Minimal (work in progress) found its way into the strips.

A definite curve developed which will stay. I couldn't have done better if I had planned it. Life does not proceed in a straight line after all. A happy accident.

The temptation to simply stitch into the background strips tickled my fancy.

Yet, ultimately, the background exists for the five men's shirts, one for each business day. Only pinned for the moment, these shirts will disintegrate when I cut into them and do needle turn appliqué (and no, I have no idea how I'm going to do that). The collars and some of the cuffs will remain, a few buttons and labels here and there. The title He Went to Work Every Day...and then Retired whispers of the frustrations and yet the possibility of the liberation from constraints, a desire to fly away.

The owner of the shirts:

Here is my question: what would be the title for the women's version? She Worked Every Day of the Week (Including Weekends)...And Never Retired?


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

My Driving Adventures

For sundry administrative reasons, my U.S. driver's license expired and I couldn't renew it without being in the States in person and I have been unable to travel. So I decided to go for a Tunisian driver's license. Easier said than done.
     After passing the written test second time 'round, I discovered that lessons at a driving school are necessary (at about $20/hr) because you need to be in a special car equipped with the pedals on the right side as well as the left to take the test (only stick shift, mind you), and you need to practice in the area where the driving test is given--with an instructor (the system of a learner's permit does not exist). 

Ultimately, this creates employment. There are 3000 auto-écoles (driving schools) in Tunisia. The cute white KIA that I drove was brand new. Another student took the test first and told me afterwards that he was so nervous his legs trembled the whole time. He flunked right away, missed a priority on the right. Easily done as the area is mostly residential with narrow streets, lots of blind corners, few road signs, low hills, and a couple of busy and tricky intersections. There was a long line-up of waiting auto-école cars, which are always recognizable by the white sign with red writing on top.

In the future, I will be more patient with these cars when driving, knowing that the students will suffer greatly. I felt like I was 16 again (not a pleasant feeling) and had nightmares about cars and inspectors the night before. 

While waiting in line, I pulled out my sketchbook (hardly the place to haul out your stitching). 

Rather full of anxiety.

During the test, the driving instructor sat in back--I suppose this is a policy to stop corruption. I showed the inspector my ID before we got underway and joked about my American driver's license, which was visible in my wallet. I also played up the fact that I had a loved one who had been in the hospital and I might need to be able to get to the hospital again under dire circumstances--I milked it for what it was worth. One must be tactical in situations like this. 

We got underway and as the inspector gave directions to drive we chatted, about dogs of all things, and I could tell he was giving me all the easy turns. After about 10 minutes he said to stop and he signed my papers and congratulated me. Afterwards, my driving instructor said that the inspector was always very nasty and that I was very lucky. I could see how the inspector could increase the difficulty of the test. Personally, I think I charmed him with my white hair and US nationality. I bet the woe-is-me story helped as well. In any case, I was thankful.

My husband says I'm the only person he knows who has taken the driving test just once--and he knows a lot of people. Before the test, he told me he would get me a present if I passed, something that I desired.

Yup, a couple of big pots to mosaic.

And driving, dear readers, is one of the reasons that I have had trouble keeping up with blogging. I was jumping through hoops.

Another Year Gone By

This week was my second blog anniversary. Time has whizzed by and yet MulticoloredPieces marks the passage of time and records it for Memory thus creating a chronicle of life, my life, the bits that have come together. I see continuity, balance, a whole. So I propose a couple of before-and-afters, a couple of two-years-ago-and-today shots to celebrate. 

Two years ago, I showed a border along my entrance alley to introduce my recycling theme.

The broken 1950s cement irrigation pipes found out in the fields made interesting pots alongside the thin trunk of a wild olive tree. Some plants worked, some didn’t, yet this spot looks almost lush now.

Looking from the other direction, I’ve found a few more pipes to add to the lineup along with some succulents and geraniums.

Furniture has been recycled as well. My old bedroom set was solid, comfortable, and useful, but dark. So I gave it to the neighbor (my daughter). The Before:

 

Then there was a bench that had a broken rail underneath. For years, my husband made half-hearted attempts to fix it and it would break again. In addition, the straight back on it made it very uncomfortable to sit upon. When my husband wasn't looking, I sawed off the broken part and the back. 

I lightened it all up. Shabby chic to the rescue. Et voilà! The After:

The Egyptian Tentmaker's quilt that I have shown before may visit my daughter awhile. Her collections deserve mention. The clay animals are from Sejnen, a small town in Tunisia known for its unusual pottery. 

The tin boxes belonged to her Tunisian grandmother and date from the 1930s and 1940s.

Of course,  I must thank all the readers who stop by, those names and statistics that appear within the magic box we call a computer, virtual presences that represent very real people. Without you, a blog would be a dreary exercise, however, with you I am able to confront life and construct a vision of what I think life should be. When I write a post, I say to myself, "Now I will make something good happen."  

Although a pileup of work has cut into the time I spend visiting blog friends for the last several months, I will soon be back because the world of MulticoloredPieces provides a window on the world, expansion, mental exhilaration, creativity, and friendship. 

Thank you for your virtual presence on this best of birthdays!

Old Rocks Anyone? Part 2

Speaking of rock piles, even the rubble at Uthina deserves attention.

The combination of carved forms, various rocks and marbles, 

and bits of mosaics sparks the imagination.

The elegant lines…

Interesting carvings may be seen here and there.

And mosaics...

 

And then there’s the jewel of this site, which archeologists continue to reconstruct, the amphitheater. It looked like this about six years ago:

And today:

Two thousand years ago, it could contain a capacity crowd of around 16,000, making it the third largest amphitheater in Tunisia. Here’s the other end about six years ago.

It has been dug out now and the lower level has been restored.

I imagined myself down there with the lions—very exciting ! 

And what masonry!