ludid ryu

Little happy house art print. Ludid Ryu

Life of threads wrap. Ludid Ryu

Hand painted card. Ludid Ryu

Hand painted bookmark. Ludid Ryu

A few weeks ago I learned of a Craft It Forward Project from artist Ludid Ryu’s inspiring blog. I immediately added my comment to her post and was thrilled when I received an email saying that I’d be one of the five to continue the project and receive something handmade from Ludid. A package of thoughtful creations arrived in my mailbox shortly thereafter– I’d been admiring Ludid’s Little happy house print since we met on Etsy last year and am now searching for a frame worthy to display it. Her Life of Threads wrap is already around a small vase on my desk and her handpainted cards and bookmark are tucked in several books by my bedside table. Her work is sincere and heartfelt, beautifully recognizing the inherent comfort that lives in handmade and at the same time her layers of paper, paint and thread are boldly raw and fearless. She is an artist who is truly authentic and she generously allows us to share in her discovery of self. Thank you, Ludid.

. . . . . 

So, now it's my turn to Craft It Forward! I will send something handmade to the first five

people who leave a comment below. Once you receive my package, you will write a blog

post about what you received and continue the project by sending something handmade to the first five who comment on your blog post. You may send anything at all as long as it is handmade by you and sent before the end of 2012.

what a difference a day makes

Settling into life outside of the city. A day of gardening, nature walks, sun printing, bike rides, badminton and a (feet) dip in the freezing lake definitely helps to ease the transition. I’m realizing what I think I’ve known all along- I’m a country girl at heart.

i ♥ ny

On Wednesday, I leave New York City, my home of almost seventeen years. It's still difficult to believe, even a day away. When I moved here for school in 1995, I swore I would never live anywhere else. As amazing as New York is, and is it ever amazing, it can take its toll. Over the past few years I've found myself yearning for a quieter and simpler life. The craziest part of this scenario is not my move, it’s that I don’t yet know where I’m moving to. I’ll be staying with family and friends for the next month or two while I search for a new place to call home.

This week as I marked my last visit to the market, and my last walk through Central Park (to leave my apple), I shed quite a few tears as I thought about what I’ll miss most. Here are a few big ones...

* The subway & subway musicians – most especially guitarist Desmond Ivey who plays Columbus Circle Uptown 1 platform quite a bit. He makes me cry every time I hear him.

* Salaam Café on 13^th Street. Coziest and most welcoming little tucked away place with my favorite dolmades & vegetable ouzi.

* Walking through Washington Square Park in the evening - esp in the rain or snow.

* Friday meditation with Raven.

* Metropolitan Opera House – regardless of whether I’m inside or outside.

* The endless and inspiring energy.

* Knowing that whenever my heart desires, I can hop on the train or walk across town and be standing in front of some of the greatest works of art in the world.

* Sunday Greenflea at 77th & Columbus. Vintage city treasures and the best pickles and jalapeno stuffed olives.

* Lastly and mostly, I’ll miss the people. Friends - new and old, teachers, acquaintances, fellow yogis, the receptionists at my gym, fruit sellers on my corner… I could write this list forever. Despite our reputation, New Yorkers are pretty awesome. My sister and niece top that list and leaving them will be the hardest of all.

Every once in a while I have a flash of panic and think that I’m making a terrible mistake and then my intuition seeps in, I see the life I want ahead of me, and that life is somewhere else. So, I’m following my intuition and trusting in myself. On to the next chapter. Thank you so much, New York! I really do love you.

life, real and imagined

Figures and Construction with Blue Border c. 1941 : Bill Traylor

Man with a Plow c.1939-42: Bill Traylor

I visited the American Folk Art Museum today for the first time. They’re celebrating their 50^th year and a new location. It’s a beautiful little museum, only three galleries, on Columbus Ave & 66^th St in Manhattan. Seems a fitting size to intimately view the deeply personal art displayed. The museum honors artists who were and are creating outside of the traditional art school or accepted mainstream art world. The current exhibit is Jubilation|Rumination: Life, Real and Imagined. 

My favorite works were by Bill Traylor. He was born into slavery in 1852 and spent most of his life on a plantation in Benton, Alabama, where he remained even after emancipation. At the age of eighty-four he moved to Montgomery and started creating drawings with found materials. In the course of three years he produced almost 1,500 works reflecting his life experiences. 

la churreria

A beautiful new café opened in the Nolita neighborhood of New York City this month. It’s called La Churreria and it serves mouth-watering golden churros with chocolate for dipping and delicious pressed Spanish sandwiches. I had the privilege of making aprons for the staff and when I visited yesterday to drop off a new batch, I was so excited to see how amazing the aprons looked in action. It’s exactly the kind of place where I would want my linens to find a home so I’m very grateful to Livia, La Churreria’s extraordinary manager, for finding me and supporting my work. If you’re in NYC, anywhere at all in NYC, make a point to stop in and relax at one of the cozy tables. 284 Mulberry Street bet Houston & Prince.

wish list

The funny thing about wishes is that sometimes you don’t even realize what they are until they come true. Every year we pick names for Christmas in my family. The plan is that everyone will buy one "big" gift for one person and little stocking gifts for everyone else. That’s how it should go down, but it rarely does. What actually happens is that everyone is much too extravagant and nothing is small enough to fit into any stocking. This year was no exception. Thought I’d share a few of my wonderful new belongings, all of which I absolutely had to have, I just didn’t know it until they were mine.

Clockwise from top left: One-of-a-kind handmade snowflake (medium: paper, crayon, glitter & pipe cleaner), Handmade Amethyst bracelet with found Vintage clasp, Vintage Kantha embroidery quilt, Barbara Eigen Metropolitan Opera mug, Red Vintage tool box, Obama 2012 tee, Luke Lamp Co. Industrial light wood lamp, P.D. James novel.

christmas tree

I bought a Christmas tree this week, after several years of not having one. It turned out to be a bigger challenge than I thought. Four NYC corner stands and over an hour of searching and I could not find a tree that was quite right. I just decided to forgo the plan and head home to make lunch when I spotted him. Leaning against a box, all by himself, looking like he may have been headed to the mulch bin. A rescue mission, I'd like to think. When I asked about buying the tree, the guys at the stand looked pretty perplexed, they had a brief exchange in Spanish, of which the only words I understood were "Charlie Brown" and then laughed heartily. And in the spirit of the holidays, I laughed with them.

He is the perfect little tree. Decorated with my vintage jewelry collection, since I don't yet own ornaments, he is also a little bit of a nostalgic reminder of many amazing people and times in my life. This may become a tradition...

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

magic

 

This past weekend will be remembered as one of the best memories of my years in NYC. Growing up, I spent a lot of time pretending, as most kids do, but I think my joy in the world of make believe lasted a bit longer than average. Even today, I don’t really feel like I’m officially an adult and can still very easily fall down a rabbit hole. The worlds that Jim Henson created were where I spent most of my daydreaming and playing. I wanted so desperately to be Sarah in Labyrinth, it broke my heart that I could never ride a Landstrider with Kira and absolute mayhem ensued when my VHS tapes of the entire Fraggle Rock series went missing (it remains a cold case). 

Part of the reason I moved to NYC was because the Henson offices were here. I thought if I could get as close as I could to the magic they created, it would be a good start. For several years after arriving, I wrote letters, sent my resume, called every phone number and spoke to every person who would listen about getting an internship or job with the company. It never materialized and eventually daily life, finding a paying job and apartment took priority. I’m incredibly happy where I am right now but for a long time I was lost in an uninspired daily life and money became more important than my happiness. For more than a decade, I forgot what really lit me up inside. I’m just starting to rediscover the parts of me that were hidden - what my sister told me last week, is my authentic self.

I went to see Jim Henson’s Fantastic World exhibit at The Museum of the Moving Image on Saturday and then saw a 25^th anniversary screening of Labyrinth. Brian Henson was there to talk about the film along with Brian, Wendy & Toby Froud. It was so exciting and moving. What made it even more special was that I was with my two sisters and my four year old niece, who is a big fan and my match for enthusiastically reenacting scenes from the film. I returned on Sunday for an incredible presentation by Brian Henson about the evolution of puppetry where he entertained us with stories about his father and the history of The Jim Henson Company and spoke so humbly about his own role over the years. By the time I arrived home on Sunday night, I was reeling. That sense of wonder which I had every day as a child, is still inside of me; and while I know there may be times that I'll stray, I hope I never again lose sight that anything is possible when I stay connected to my true north.

I recently read a beautiful profile of an Etsy shop owner that I can’t seem to find again. I wish I had bookmarked her page and told her how much the words meant. It said something like, "I’ve always been a creator but for a long time I forgot that I was.”