Crafty Frustrations

Well, Tuesday came and went without burlap dyeing, but I started off this morning with a whistling teakettle to make a giant vat of extra strong tea. I left the sun tea brewing (not sure it can be called sun tea when no sun broke through the gloom, but that was the theory)and started to prepare the burlap. Once I tore off the multiple layers of plastic I began to see the fabric with new eyes. The color was a warmer brown than I thought and I decided to jettison the idea of dyeing the burlap. Big relief, and I think the lawn appreciated the generous tea bath.

I started to print the digital Santa Barbara County lemon labels on the fabric sheets I bought for my ink jet printer. In order to size the images, the labels had to be imported into a word document and then printed. Sounds easy, but this is where the nightmare began. Each of the cotton lawn sheets cost three dollars so I didn't want to make too many mistakes, but my printer kept jamming. I hated wasting all that money, so I decided to try having them printed at Staples. Unfortunately, the finished print was very faded--these sheets only work on ink jets. Coming home, I took my printer apart, washed off all of the rollers, notched the top corners on each sheet and pressed masking tape along the leading edge to weigh it down as it went through the printer. Even with all these precautions the printing only worked 60% of the time. I'll have to invest in two more packages tomorrow.

The fabric labels will be placed on the burlap table runners, a different one for each of the 20 tables. There will be ribbon frames to make it pop on the burlap. I'm going to add a thicker ribbon of a second color in addition to the brown one in the picture.


Starting a different project tomorrow--wedding flags!

Wanted: One Muse

Lately,I've been noticing a recurring theme in my reading material. Muses. I want one.

According to Greek mythology, muses were the goddesses or spirits who inspired the creation of literature and the arts. Initially there were three of them, but by 400 b.c. the number grew to nine. I think that's a little excessive. I'm pretty sure I only need one.

The world of fashion is always talking about muses. According to an article in the Image section of today's LA Times, Marchessa Luisa Casati inspired the creativity of many artists and designers--from the early 1900's to the 21st century. She wasn't a traditional beauty, but rather a risk-taker who aspired to become a "living work of art." She was passionate and inspirational.

A book I just finished reading, Traveling with Pomegranates by Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter, Ann Kidd Taylor, was full of muses. Athena, Joan of Arc and various incarnations of the Virgin Mary and the Black Madonna capture the creative souls of the authors and inspire their quests to redefine themselves and their writing. The sharing of intimate spiritual journeys doesn't always appeal to me, but this book was different. Probably because a great deal of it focused on both the mother's and daughter's struggle to accept themselves in their evolving roles as women and as writers. It was also appealing since much of the book unfolds over the course of their travels in France and Greece.

But, back to me and my muse. I don't think someone else's muse would necessarily be a good fit. It seems that Muses should be tailored to the individual. I also wondering if I'm in need of a traditional muse or if simply channeling the mind of an eleven-year-old boy (for my current project only) will do the trick. It's a tough call.

Are there muse-listings on Craig's List? Here's the job description. Wanted: One Muse (toga optional.) Requirements: Must be creative, nurturing, inspirational, extremely patient and reassuring. Should be willing to tolerate employer's tendency toward procrastination and bouts of self-doubt. Sense of humor essential. Must be available 24/7 (individuals requiring 8 hours of sleep need not apply.) Muse will be subject to regular performance evaluations.

I think that ought to do it. Now, I'll just sit back and wait...for the muse to strike.

Beauty In the Eye of the Beholder

A tomato cage is a simple thing--a few wire circles attached to three long wire prongs. For $1.49 each at K-mart I was able to buy 42" tomato cages for my new "husky" cherry tomato plants. (I'm assuming that in this instance husky translates to sturdy and prolific.) I unstacked about seven cages and picked out two with minimal distortions and with all necessary solderings intact. That probably should have ended my consideration of tomato cages.

However, I have a strange fascination with these wire structures. When we lived near Washington D.C., where my front door planters refused to sustain any plant life in the winter months, I once adorned the planters with upside down tomato cages that were draped with red and green chile pepper lights, and voila...two lovely outdoor Christmas trees. Believe me, my neighbors were very impressed with this creative display. Alas, this feat was not captured on film but I did find a picture of a kindred spirit's effort. I'm sure you get the idea.

But my strange obsession with cages doesn't end there. A few weeks ago when I was visiting Nora I spotted stacks of beautiful brightly colored tomato cages in the garden section of a drugstore. I was immediately drawn to them, and just as quickly repelled by their $24.99 price tag. Alas, as much as I coveted them, I would have to do without these gorgeous yet functional garden sculptures.

But yesterday I had a brainstorm... why couldn't I spray paint my K-mart cages a stunning color? I was already at Home Depot to pick out my tomatoes so it wasn't inconvenient to stop by the Rustoleum spray paint aisle. I considered all the color options and eventually selected a can of Key Lime (one of my new favorite colors). Neon green was too harsh and Apple Green, which was in the running for a while, was just too safe. The cages are hard to pick out in the photo because of the green background, but they are lovely. When they were drying on the lawn I thought how fun it would be to have an outdoor party and fill the yard with all different colors and sizes of tomato cages--maybe add a few ribbons and some little chimes?

Eventually I stopped admiring my cleverness and used the tomato cages for their original purpose. The tomato plants look like they are loving their beautiful new cages, and I am sure I will have they will be inspired to produce a bumper crop this year. I'm not sure how Paul will feel about our Key Lime sculptures, but the flamingos certainly seem to like them. Me, too.