Ever get an idea that grabs hold and doesn’t let go? This was one of those!
I’ve been carrying my nice big binder with me to coffee shops to work on workshops and goal-making and notes that pour from my head, and after some papers spilled from it the other day (scattering across the parking lot!), realized I might need a different bag as my purse was too small to fit much else.
(That, and my new journal doesn’t fit in my purse, either!)
I remembered this olive messenger bag I had and hoped it had made it in the move. I hopped on a chair and pulled down my box of bags - the eight that remain from a collection of at least seventy - cheering when I pulled it free.
I’ve been carrying my nice big binder with me to coffee shops to work on workshops and goal-making and notes that pour from my head, and after some papers spilled from it the other day (scattering across the parking lot!), realized I might need a different bag as my purse was too small to fit much else.
(That, and my new journal doesn’t fit in my purse, either!)
I remembered this olive messenger bag I had and hoped it had made it in the move. I hopped on a chair and pulled down my box of bags - the eight that remain from a collection of at least seventy - cheering when I pulled it free.
My plan hinged on dying pieces of muslin with various inks and sprays, my studio resembling a mad scientist's workspace. A bowl of water and Liquitex Ink!, paper towels blotting Adirondack ink, the faint shimmer of glimmer mist. I laid down some stencils and sprayed directly onto the muslin with a light blue glimmer mist as I’d done before in class, then added in some darker blue Adirondack ink.
Spritz and spray and inky fingers. Laughter and true experimentation. Spreading out into a new world.
While those dried, I pulled out some little alphabet stamps and a pad of Staz On black ink and started writing, one letter at a time. Is it normal for ink to smell that bad? Or is it because the inkpad, brand new and pristine, lived for three years in my mother’s craft tote?
Spritz and spray and inky fingers. Laughter and true experimentation. Spreading out into a new world.
While those dried, I pulled out some little alphabet stamps and a pad of Staz On black ink and started writing, one letter at a time. Is it normal for ink to smell that bad? Or is it because the inkpad, brand new and pristine, lived for three years in my mother’s craft tote?
This was just after writing yesterday’s long post - and thank you for all your wonderful comments, emails, and chats; I am working through them! - so all that was on my mind, influencing the words I stamped.
While running errands, my eye was caught by a dark swirl of multi-colored thread that spun together primary colors and a bit of black. I re-thread my sewing machine and sewed together the two sides of my shapes - a heart and wings. I know it is often overdone and is everywhere, but I don’t care - I still love drawing it, playing around, changing the wing shapes. Perhaps that’s why it’s done all the time!
Apply to bag, add buttons, and...magic!
Now my journal and binder can stay safe inside my bag while I wander around town, writing and thinking and wishing and dreaming...
While running errands, my eye was caught by a dark swirl of multi-colored thread that spun together primary colors and a bit of black. I re-thread my sewing machine and sewed together the two sides of my shapes - a heart and wings. I know it is often overdone and is everywhere, but I don’t care - I still love drawing it, playing around, changing the wing shapes. Perhaps that’s why it’s done all the time!
Apply to bag, add buttons, and...magic!
Now my journal and binder can stay safe inside my bag while I wander around town, writing and thinking and wishing and dreaming...
