hey, wanna get on my tandem bicycle and ride with me into eternity?

Another weekend, another side of the family! It's October and Luke and I have our traveling shoes laced up for what is becoming a month-long tour of the eastern seaboard. Most recently we spent time in Maryland with my in-laws then journeyed to rural Virginia for a cousin's lovely wedding.

Rest assured, it was a weekend full of silly puns, baby antics and roasted pork. I can't decide which made my heart race more: the caramel apple cheesecake, the 500 acre plantation (passed down through several generations), the charming, hand-built chapel/church, or the absolutely perfect 2-bedroom log cabin where my sister-in-law, Mollie, gets to live. I seriously spent 3 days drooling over all this and more.

Let's take a moment and focus on those 500 acres. While we thoroughly enjoy our small city, 2-bedroom apartment existence, it is no secret that Luke and I dream of ultimately buying a piece of land on which to homestead and pursue all of our loves: fresh food, free movement, mindfulness, cultivation, simplicity, sewing, etc etc etc). What excites me most about my aunt and uncle-in-law's land is that they have chosen to use it in so many capacities. They have a generational home which they share with her parents. There are gardens. There are chickens. There is a church where he preaches and leads. There are trails. There are tracts of land left to grow and overgrow as nature might intend. And there is space for her to pursue her existing writing career. They have shaped a life and a community which is both openly hospitable and wonderfully self-sufficient.

So here I am- back to everyday life- feeling refreshed and inspired. Also I am further convinced that all the people who are doing what I dream of doing are either a) blessed by a benevolent benefactor or b) beloved writers. Since Luke and I are neither of these, we have other plans in mind that might bring us ever-closer to our homesteading dreams.

Until then, you'll find me here dreaming and scheming. And on that note I leave you with a wedding card creation I choose to call "hey, wanna get on my tandem bicycle and ride with me into eternity?"

The Maoist Lobster: a collaborative piece

When I was a junior in college I became good friends with a colorfully-skirted, socially-conscious, pensively-cheerful friend named Kate. In turn she introduced me to her colorfully-headbanded, globally-minded, intriguingly-dryhumored, and curlyheadedly-dreamy brother, Luke. I soon became fond of bombarding him with political and ethical questions while he was trying to study in the library, sharing tea and BBC news with him and mutual friends in an asbestos-y old house, and observing his affinity for ducks along the creek. Eventually he graduated, then I went to Costa Rica, then he went to South Korea and then I graduated and got a steady, full-time salaried position from which I was promptly laid off. So when he came home for sister Kate's wedding, and I was job searching, and he joked I might like teaching in South Korea, I laughed. Four months later I was in Korea. One year later we were totally in like. And last November we were wed in a used bookstore.

These days Luke and I are exploring marriage as well as many other exciting new activities, including but not limited to: biking, cooking, having friends and family, reading, mindfulness and doing push-ups. But as is healthy we also have our independent interests. You will be shocked to know that I spend some free-time sewing. Luke, on the other hand, likes to spend his free-time practicing Parkour and Free Movement.

Recently we did the unthinkable. In honor of a friend's birthday, we took my sewing-mindedness combined with his aforementioned global-mindedness/intriguing-dryhumoredness, creating a quilted card featuring a Maoist Lobster. Luke sketched it and scripted the birthday greeting "Use your birthday for the good of the people". I traced, ironed and sewed it onto the card. Happy Birthday once more Katie!

...who have attempted to clothe the bird with English plumage

My newest set of note cards were designed using swatches of left-over upholstery fabric from my Craigslist steal a few weeks ago. I loved the combination of red, orange, yellow and green throughout the fabric design, and the birds were just the right size for the cards I've been making. So I used my finest tracing, cutting and sewing skills to finish these "In English Plumage" cards, which I plan to vend in an upcoming art show.

Often my project names are derived from poetry, but I decided to name these for a literary essay I recently came across online. I found it strangely relevant and interesting, despite the fact that it was written in the 1940s by a classical philologist named Reuben A. Brower. Brower was one of those brilliant few who find classical Greek literature entirely interesting, and he spent his career studying and analyzing it. I won't go into the entire article, partly because it's boring and partly because I don't necessarily understand it all that well. But suffice it to say that this guy is annoyed (and he uses some thick vocabulary to get that across). He criticizes other English academics because he believes that in translating Greek literature, they are draping their translations in the cultural cues and language of English culture. In other words, their interpretations of the literature were often expressed in tandem with their own worldviews and experiences, instead of a "pure" understanding of the original texts. As Brower so wonderfully puts it, these writers "attempted to clothe (the Theban eagle) with English Plumage".

As an undergraduate theology student, I encountered these issues nearly daily. In my classes we constantly debated whether any biblical translations or interpretations could be left unaltered by a theologian's own cultural lens and life experience. These issues had huge implications for students who were trying to discover the integrity of the text, while simultaneously preserving personal theologies and religious experiences. It requires a delicate balance at the very least.

While I appreciate Brower's concern, and have born witness to these struggles in my own life, I have a growing appreciation for the fact that we cannot feasibly separate our reactions from our experiences. I have come to see that everyone interprets all facets of life through the lenses of culture, personal history, religious beliefs, and everything else that constitutes the "self". What a relief! Because then we can see why human opinion and belief are so varied and unique. Perhaps in recognizing our own biases, we can be more forgiving and accepting of others.

And so, feeling strangely inspired by this archaic piece of critical analysis, I decided to name this project for that Theban eagle "in English plumage". How else could I explain seeing adorable quilted note cards in some scraps of upholstery? It must be my "quilting" lens.

quilted cards, version 2

Some more quilted note cards! These are my two newest card sets, made with a mix of embroidery and applique.

The bird set is called "Bright Wings", which I named for a poem called "God's Grandeur" written by Gerard Manley Hopkins in 1918. The "Taste of Leaves" thank-you set gets its name from a poem called "Tea" by the writer Leslie Harrison. And it is so lovely that I will include the poem in its entirety:

Tea

Nearly dawn, I’m watching the trees

march out of night, surround again
this house; the dogs

twitch in final dreams; the stove—
this orange, unsteady heat and black iron box

breathes warm mirage into the cold,
into the sky; the yellow enamel teapot
does the same inside.

The tea leaves in their white paper pouch
in their skyblue mug—I’ve brewed thousands of cups

like this: wood house, wood fire, the woods
leaning out of the night, of their stubborn life,

the taste of leaves
hot on my tongue.

Quilting = Recylcing

I love hoarding all types of fabrics and bringing them out of retirement to complete any number of projects. I think quilting is a most resourceful means of reusing and re-purposing all genres of fabrics, and always feel gratified knowing that even the tiniest scrap need not go to waste!

I think the 'redemptive' nature of crafting is what really inspires me to create. I admire those who are able to take metal and wood and form something usable, useful and beautiful. It's not just their skill that I appreciate, but also their self-reliance. They use materials that are at their disposal, in their environment. And they negate any need to visit a mall or chain store to buy the same goods, shipped from miles away.

So here, for your viewing pleasure are my newest recycled goods: note cards that are hand embroidered and machine quilted onto old Christmas cards. Mostly they are shaped like post cards with the back side left blank for note-writing endeavors. I also embroidered "to" and "from" on the envelopes. Relatively resourceful ways to say hello!