A while ago, I began considering maybe selling some of my stitched
stuff. Not such a big deal eh? Every crafter alive seems to be doing
it. I was very confused about how to price. And when I asked for
advice I got so many different opinions! 'Don't undervalue your art,
mark the prices up high!' was one. But I felt funny about asking for a
lot of money. Then again, each piece takes so many hours. Of love! So
what is the right price when the value is sentimental? Puzzled by all
this, I went ahead and looked into how you would go about declaring
profit made from craft sales, and acquiring a book to cut receipts.
Dear. Me. The things I learnt. It turns out that to declare sales
profit or cut anyone a receipt on a piece of handmade ANYTHING you must
be on TEBE the freelancers insurance. And that'll cost ya. Over 300
Euro a month. Otherwise you can sell illegally. Or sell nothing.
This applies for all freelancers. No matter what you are making, you
better cough up the cash each month or your right to work will be taken
from you. In the past month, a guest house in my dad's village has
closed its business as it cannot afford to pay TEBE. An excellent
graphic designer I know has had to close shop, and other friends in
production and yoga teaching are struggling to make the payments just so
that if some work does come up, they will be employable. No wonder
people with dual nationality are shutting down their personal businesses
and finding ways to re-start them based in another country. With so
many people being made redundant and the government making it so bloody
difficult to sustain self-employment, no wonder homelessness in the
streets of Athens has reached new dizzy heights.
So I have decided to sell my owl coin parliament. And give all the money to Klimaka. Klimaka is an NGO that provides shelter, food, counselling and medical assistance to the homeless people of Athens. Everyone I
have spoken to there is so nice, they work largely with volunteers and
whatever money is donated is used directly to buy supplies. They even let you know exactly what they have bought, if you like. Of course the amount raised will be
published. I have arranged an appointment next Wednesday 21st December to visit the shelter and bring the owl bazaar proceeds. If anyone would like to come with me please do! I have posted
detailed pics of the owls that are for sale here. If you are interested in buying one
please contact me on firstname.lastname@example.org and I will give you the details. Or if you know me and its easier send me a personal
message on facebook . If you are not
based in Greece but would like one please bear in mind that the post may not be able to fly
them to you in time for Christmas, but I will pay for their travel expenses. XXX
Heartbreak. Humiliating, devastating, yet liberating. I've discussed this before. But what if the heartbreak doesn't come from some bastard lover, but from an old, beloved friend?
Our friends are part of who we are. Their laughter is our medicine. An old friend is there when you need them, won't judge you when you screw up. Someone who loves you just the way you are. But...
Sometimes we pretend everything is fine whilst nursing resentment. The outcome: One moment you are nestling in a comfortable companionship and then suddenly you can't have a conversation that isn't riddled with tension. And you keep finding yourself disappointed with them for failing to live up to your expectations. Because of course it is all their fault. But is it?
When someone has been your friend forever, you can get absorbed by your own view of them. The person is that little girl who was your BFF in school. Or your Maid of Honour. Or your Kindred Spirit. You behold your person, heavy with memories and glittery titles. So what to do when the one who fit into your life so snugly becomes like a square block for a circle shaped hole? And like a baby, you insist on pressing and pushing and hoping it somehow will just go through.
It takes real courage to 'fess up feelings of discontent. To
dig in there and prepare with thought, kindness, and ego management so as to
find words that will not offend. It is far easier not to bother.
And thats when you find yourself in the middle of a Communication Breakdown. Its like God has pulled a Tower of Babel move on you and your friend. So you have to go your separate ways.
Deciding to press the pause or stop button on a friendship can be one of the most difficult ever. But sometimes it is necessary breathing space. It could be what is needed to help the friendship grow. And for you to grow. Learning to function without the constant familiarity of a dear buddy is like a painful coming of age. Thankfully Time is a tender hearted mentor. One that has taught me (with the help of Karma) that if you care, its worth it to make the effort to talk.
So when I found some beautiful pieces of vintage linen in a xmas bazaar I knew that one of them was destined for heartbreak. The transplant donor was an Angelique Houtkamp sugar skull, who gave the heart from his forehead. The operation went smoothly, and I have almost completely recovered.
Once upon a time in the nineties, I went to visit my brother who was studying in Boston. One day he took me out of the Tufts campus for a tour of the city. As we went around, he pointed out different features and details of interest. One of these was a car. 'This' he declared 'is the stereotypical car of a Greek American. As you can see, it is a BMW, and if you have a closer look, you will see that dangling from the rear view mirror is a cross and a protective eye.' Wow. Nineteen year old me was appalled at the uncoolness of it all. I was particularly offended by the eye. Why did they have to hang it there? Were they afraid that everyone would be jealous of their fancy pants car? I felt full of disdain and above it all.
So its been a few years since then. And I seem to have developed a strange fascination with the eye or mati to use the greek. It was one of the first things I tried to make as a newbie embroiderer. I was not pleased with the outcome. I moved on. And that was the end of my career as a mati maker. No! Here I am again. But why?
There are two Australian blogs that I just love. One is Discount. The other is Swallow Glitter. Their aesthetics make me catch my breath. And with eyes peering out at you from the screen in all the colours of the rainbow, I couldn't help but give it one more try...
This time around I thought it would be a breeze. But I struggled with the metallic and flouro thread. And with my abilities. How could I ever have judged somebody else's taste? This is rubbish. I can't do this. I was casting the evil eye on my evil eye...
So it took ages to finish and a part of me didn't want to blog about this one. But, having struggled with some demons in the stitching of this hamsa hand+eye I felt the need to discuss. Embroidery is like yoga, an exercise in self-scrutiny. Even if the outcome isn't so great, its all worth it for the things you learn. I realised how much I appreciate all the amazing art we get to look at on the internet and how grateful I feel for it being there. If you can, do spare the time to browse the links I have in this post and those on the right under stitchy blog love. Each and every one of these blogs is a gem. I dedicate my protective eye to all of them.
As for the finished product, Kimona loved it. I want it in my room mummy! he said as soon as I finished. Elias photographed it hanging in its place.
After days of headache from watching our members of parliament squawking
away into the night, I thought I'd take the matter into my own hands.
My parliament is ready. In the making I was inspired by many things I love about Greece; our ancient heritage, the colours of the
cycladic islands, the stars of summer nights.
There they are sitting in the windows!
I hope they imbue
our silly lot in there with some wisdom, cause we sure as hell are going to need
'When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window'. Maria from The Sound of Music.
Please don't hate me for quoting The Sound of Music. I know some of you may be utterly repulsed offended. But I have a drama background and it came into my head and it fits! Like a lot of us over here I've been feeling the pressure of limitation. But I did this workshop that helped me appreciate one of the things I really love about Greece. And that is the deliciously superior quality of the local vegetables.
The workshop was an intro to vegan raw food. And it was an eye opener. Firstly, I learnt that raw beets and raw mushrooms can be exquisite. I had no idea that vegan cheese alternatives (the one we made was called macademia 'cream cheese') can be much, much tastier than any of the real dairy stuff. And the chocolates we made were so good they made me feel sort of high.
I made some of the dishes for my family this weekend. My mum, who is the most unadventurous Greek tunnel vision person when it comes to food went completely nuts and started demanding I get her nutritional yeast immediately so she can make the cheese and ALWAYS have it in her fridge. My little boy who won't touch boiled or baked beets wouldn't stop eating the raw ones. Its really good. If you live in Athens you can head over to Avocado on thursday night and see for yourselves as the lovely troo food liberation team will take over the kitchen to cook Vegan Mexican Thali Platters. You can read more about the event on the facebook page.
And if any of you are wondering why the embroidered beet the answer is I saw work by Sarah Greaves who stitches anything from bananas to chocolate and my curiosity got the better of me. Thankfully it was pretty easy and only a small portion of one veg was sacrificed. Stitching it reminded me of Miranda and the talking hot dog in sex and the city, and in my book that can only be a good thing :)
Once upon a time in university I met a girl who played an operative role in bringing about something of a metamorphosis in my young life. I was starting to feel seriously sick of whingey music and mosh pits and she came along and opened the doors to Heaven. And Return to the Source and Club UK. Liberation! After years of hiding behind my pout and dressing like a 90's version of an emo I cut my hair and covered my face with glitter. So one day this influential figure said something to me that really startled my 20 year old brain. It went kind of like this:
'You know, I think women were stupid to have wanted emancipation. We could be spending the day painting our nails and having cocktails from noon. And also, you could go to the doctor and pretend to be depressed and get free valium prescriptions! What were they thinking wanting to go to work? Women really screwed things up for themselves.'
This coming from a dynamic, outspoken PhD student. No. Really? Was she at all serious? I thought housewives were always vacuuming and wishing they could 'break free'. Could a housewife be rock and roll? Could being a housewife actually be an option that anyone would ever choose?
So here I am, teaching so few yoga lessons that I essentially qualify as a housewife. Although now it seems more acceptable to say 'stay at home mom' I quite like the ring of 'housewife' just because it carries so much baggage. Including stitched baggage! I love how stitchery by people like Julie Jackson and Carla Hansen takes a style that is traditionally associated with domesticity and housewifery and messes with expectations. One of my favourite artists, Joetta Maue, makes some valuable points on the tension between feminism and the 'domestic role' in this excellent interview. Anyway, I felt it was time to follow in the footsteps of the subversive stitchers.
Hard drinking? Yeah I'm too much of a yoga nerd. But when I first started this blog I was all about making cocktails. I quickly found myself with a Mexican Mule obsession that had us consuming so much Don Julio that we began to worry about our money and our health. Its from diffords guide and I'm including the recipe here because its the best cocktail in the world. I recommend you make it at the first opportunity.
1 2/2 shots tequila
3/4 freshly squeezed lime juice
1/4 shot sugar syrup
shake it all up and put it in a tall ice filled glass. Fill up to the top with ginger beer. Yum.
We are hard drinking housewives Eels in the sink Rats of unusual size We're not cocks on weed We are chicks on speed*
*These are lyrics from the Chicks on Speed song 'worst band in the world' from the album Cutting the Edge.
I get a wide spectrum of responses to my stitchy hobby. Some are very positive. But not all. Ooooooh no. I try not to dwell insanely on those comments. However, sometimes the sneering and scorn can really piss one off. 'Its a wonder you can be bothered' is a classic reaction that I am actually getting used to. And I ask... why? Why do they think its lame? Is it because embroidery conjures images of sentimental ladies of leisure with no social life? Maybe it brings to mind an uptight auntie whose house is drowning in doilies (σεμεδακια) and small porcelain objects. How can my labour of love have such a bad rap?
Embroidery is far more akin to tattooing than to, say, knitting. I'm not trying to say that embroidery is cooler than knitting. No way! But it is a different creature. Early embroidery took the place of tattoos with decorative symbols appearing on clothes in the same places as they appeared on the flesh. Tattoos have been called 'flesh embroidery'.
So now things have come full circle, with embroiderers again taking tattoos and applying them to fabric. The inspiration for this whitework is the most stunning piece of 'flesh embroidery' I have ever seen up close. I love old school tattoos for their raw style and classic symbolism and this lovely gentleman's arm is an example that deserves to be celebrated. And, in addition to being a walking work of art, he is a talented artist to boot. Check out his art here.
I wanted to stitch this in white to create a lace-like quality, to draw attention to the details of the needlework and the parallels between fiber of fabric and flesh. I wanted it to look, at first glance, like a tablecloth that any elderly lady may use to decorate her house. But nestled in the centre is a ghost of a tattooed arm.
Ok so I lied when I said I was going to stitch a dvd player cover. What I was really stitching yesterday is in these pics. The occasion? I'm going a bridal shower! As I am totally unfamiliar with the tradition I didn't know what to get. I thought it had to be something like handcuffs or a whip so I was stalling for ages. When I told Maria she laughed at me and said underwear or sleepwear is traditional. Phew! No need to take Kimona (age 3 and absurdly curious) around a sex shop then. So I figured a tee-shirt totally counts as a nightie since thats what most girls I know wear to bed. A little dig around my Sublime Stitching toolbox for tee-shirt stabilizer and I got to work. When I was finished it was night-time and the shops were shut so as a gift wrap alternative I pulled some pink from my last christmas felt mountain and made this envelope with black wool and a vintage button. Voila! Bridal shower gift complete. I hope she likes it:)
A month of living on garden vegetables and sipping (ok guzzling) wine under a sky filled with a bjillion stars can do things to a girl. For the first week so high on life I could embroider nothing. Then, when I got started all I could do was felt coins of owls with stars and hearts in their eyes. Living in traditional village houses (three weeks sea village one week mountain village) I started to feel domesticated in a way like never before. Some of you may be familiar with the-ahem- 'neo-classical' Greek style of house decorating, placing doilies (in Greek 'semedakia') (σεμεδακια) on the tv and fridge. Quaint eh? Naff ? No! Iget it. Its about pride. Pride like I live in this house and I'm going to make the absolute most of my space. No matter that I have this ugly big metal box in the kitchen. Nothing that a bit of embroidery won't sort out. I'm totally into it. Maybe I'll find a way to update the look! Some of you may remember my post about pride. Well now I think it’s a good thing, to a degree. Its life affirming! I guess it takes some time away from the info overload of urban life to realize the heady joys of domesticity. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to stitch something to cover up the dvd player:)
Washing up is not so bad if you can see the sea...
A vintage radio from the Folklore Museum in Hora, Serifos. Nice 'semedaki' no?
So just before christmas I bought all this felt supposedly to make christmassy tree gifts. If you've been following this blog then you'll know that never happened. Since then I've used the felt to make a skull bracelet, a bunch of owl coin necklaces, a heart tattoo necklace some sailor girl stuff. And I still have loads left, especially black and red. LOTS of RED. To make LOTS of Santa dollies. Yeah I guess that was never really going to happen.
I've been warming to red roses as of late. Our neighbour has a vine full, for which our living room window provides a really nice frame. They're all big and fat and kind of insolent in their slutty deep scarlet beauty. They make me want to reproduce! Felt baby roses!
So I came up with this necklace, just as the roses were starting to shrivel up and back away permanently from the unforgiving greek summer sun. And now its my turn to shrivel up and back away from Athens. You know its time to leave when the highlight of your day is going to the (air-conditioned) supermarket. Early tomorrow morning we will be on the boat to Serifos, so I won't be blogging for some time. But I'll be stitching! I'm so happy. I wish you all a wonderfully *rosy* string of lovely long summer days...kisses!
Sailor J was a macho fellow, foul mouthed and superstitious. He knew as a boy that he was destined to follow the sea.
He wanted nothing to do with women. 'Man's ruin' he always said. Until he was introduced to the lady known as the 'Golden Ant'. She was known for frequenting the seedy ghettos of ports. She was as dirty minded and foul spoken as Sailor J himself. How she managed to make her way nobody knew. She was no prostitute. And she had a mysterious 'brother' who made trouble for any sailor who tried to come too close.
Sailor J drowned himself in gin. He howled in the night like a love sick dog. Why did he have to meet this obscene blasphemous woman? What was he to do?
Finally she took pity on him and took him in. She gave him a necklace as a keepsake. She said 'I am a sailor girl and I belong to the sea. Just like you.'
Today I will tell the story of my night life. Actually, the story of my post baby night life, as that can be summed up in a few short paragraphs.
My initial response to any offer of going out is positive. Yes! Of course I would LOVE to come! Especially if its a friend's party or anything put together by Blueworks, the children of Sally Spektra, Rimini or Kormoranos. And then I think...
Shit. Can I do it? I start to do the math. My brain starts to whir. What time does it start? What time will I have to leave the house? How much sleep time does that leave me before I get woken up at 8 tops by my super energetic gleeful child going: 'Its DAYTIME! LETS PLAY'Shit. Can I do it? I don't know...
With clubbing one approach we seem to have adopted is to show up before anyone except the bar staff and wait for the dj's to dribble in. This way you choose from any(!) seat in the place, get to listen to the support and catch the vibe of the night warming up. But its ultimately frustrating cause when it all starts to kick off and it looks like a fucking excellent night, its time to leave.
When the former modus operandi gets too disheartening there is Plan B. Plan B involves sleeping from 9 when the small goes to sleep then waking up at 12 getting ready and going to the club at around 1:30 like a normal person. Except when I do this I am anything but a normal person. I am. completely. insane.
I don't know how Elias can nap like this then *ping* just wake up and go out. I feel like I've been woken in the middle of the night by a vacuum sucking out my brains. In order to feel like I can string a sentence together I need at least two large cocktails. About half an hour after I've finally stopped feeling like Little Miss Demented its drinks up ladies and gents. Time to go home.
SO who's that girl? That's the lovely DJ Girl. The text next to her is from a song in one of her playlists, a Giorgio Moroder classic. I'm most pleased that she has started playing at Grande Dame fridays from 10:00 so I can finally listen to the music I really like in a bar and then get enough zzzzzs to feel ready to face the world the next day. By the way, she also has an excellent craft blog well worth visiting.
Complain as I may I'm still so happy to go out. Even a glimpse of a good party can give me inspiration and satisfaction. And on that note, I wish you all a great weekend!
Psssst. By the way, did you notice I finally figured out how to make words into links? Its thanks to my friend Suzy of Foodie in Berlin. Feast your eyes!Thankyou Suzy.
Well of course the felt mint of Athena would have to issue a special commemorative coin to mark the occasion of AthensPride. I was so inspired to learn about Colour Youth, an organisation providing support for the young LGBTQ of Athens. If you read Greek then check out their website http://colouryouth.gr/
So if you don't know already the parade is June 4th Plateia Klathmonos. I sadly still have no clue how to make a word a link so here is the link for their website http://www.athenspride.eu/ My embroidery skills are improving but alas! My computer skills remain idle.
I can't wait for Saturday! If you live in Athens I hope to see you there:)
Sensitivity has been a real issue in my world recently. I've been contemplating why its considered to be a weakness in our culture. I see it in the playground all the time. Boys especially are not allowed to be sensitive. They are told that they 'shouldn't' cry when someone yanks their toy and makes a run for it. The one who does the naughty deed is labelled as 'lively'.
So I'm venting. My little boy hates having his toys nicked from his hands. He hates being picked up by people he doesn't know very well or like very much. He is sensitive to scratchy things in his clothes, food at the wrong temperature, other people's moods. He is Sensitive.
Heightened sensory awareness is why lots of people take drugs. I have a friend who teaches five year olds who says its like they're constantly tripping. Seemingly out of nowhere, their mood can just flip. Sometimes its hard to tell what sparks them off. It could be something as subtle as a heavy garment making them too hot. We are very quick to label: that child is fussy. That child is shy. That child is a loner.
Then we grow up changing the way we act to suit the majority opinion. But I don't think we should get over any of these so-called 'weaknesses'. I think being sensitive is a strength. The overload of info may be overwhelming sometimes, but when its sorted much has been processed and understood.
So the eyes of my owls this month reflect my musings. I haven't had time to make more because my elbow has been hurting. And I have been reading a great book*. Can you guess what its about?
If you have a small boy, you are probably ridiculously familiar with the film Cars. I must have seen it about 500 times.
I first saw it before I had a baby. I wasn't very impressed. Unlike my husband and brother who were riveted. Despite my lack of interest I pretended to kind of like it and tried not to complain as much as I usually do when I get stuck watching boys films. I still have no idea why I tried to be nice. Premonition maybe.
Because now I love it. I'm not ashamed to say I LOVE Cars. My favourite character is Filmore. He says things like 'I'm not the only one seeing this right?'. He rules. I love him so much, I made a hippie name necklace inspired by him.
I was feeling lazy so I went for Bee (childhood nickname) as its decidedly shorter than my given. The cartoony style reminds me a bit of Beverly Hills 90210 when Brenda found this diary and Dylan and Kelly played the hippies and Brenda and Brandon were squares. Remember? I really loved that episode. Perhaps I should be ashamed ofthat.
So this May Day* when everyone was picking flowers I was stitching them. The necklace was ready sooner than I expected but if you consider I took my embroidery hoop everywhere even out for drinks its no shocker really. So here's the finished thing. Happy summer everyone!
* check out the flowers and more on http://www.athenspeeps.blogspot.com/ a new blog by Elias Herc and Christina (Monday Wednesday and Friday respectively) showing glimpses of daily life in Athens. I love it.
With more ideas for embroideries than my small brain and limited time could handle, Saturday brought me a most unpleasant surprise: after carrying my sleeping 3 yr old up the stairs to his bed, I realised that my elbow hurt like. a. bitch.
I couldn't fix my hair. I couldn't brush my teeth or put my makeup on. Yoga and stitching were out of the question. The ghost of my broken elbow from rollerblading in hyde park 16 years ago had come back with the miserable weather to seriously test my patience.
I'm a bit better now, but I'm wearing the sling as I type. The stitching (the mesh made it pretty easy) was done half with my right hand and half with my left*. I have to wear the sling whenever it hurts, and in the future try to avoid balancing 16 kilos on my right arm as I fumble for the keys with my left to open the front door.
I believe there is purpose to be found in all obstacles, so for the time tricky stitching like owls and sailor girls will have to happily wait. I'm very pleased to be off to Kefalonia for easter and I may even leave my needle and thread in Athens...but I dunno...I'm such an embroidery nerd. Here's wishing you a most lovely holiday:)
*I added the fern stitch and the skull later, with my right hand. I had originally sewn a button where the skull was because with a dodgy elbow I found the O totally tedious. This post has been written over two days.
If you live in Greece then you feel it. Summer is just around the corner. The sun is out and the people are out and so I thought I'd take a break from making owls and do...a sailor girl or two!
I love cameos and for a while I've been toying with the idea of doing a stitched cameo necklace or ring. It was bloody nightmarishly fussy. Itsy bitsy bitchy little stitches, and I thought the owls were hard work. After I finished the first (necklace) I said I wouldn't do another then immediately got started on the ring. Whats wrong with me?Am I a masochist? Thing is, I wasn't very happy with the outcome, and thought, ah she'd look prettier in pink*. But then the ring didn't come out quite as I had envisioned either so I'm already toying with the idea of a third one, in black this time. Sheeeeet.
Anyway I do mean well by the sailor girls. I see all the sailor girls by people such as Angelique Houtkamp (do have a snoop around http://www.salonserpent.com/ so you can see what I mean) and think of boats and islands and summer romance. I think you'll see a lot more sailor and island themed stuff here in the months to come...
*Like the pretty pink sailor girl on Liz's arm. It gives you something to admire while she snips off your hair! If you live in Athens and want a great haircut then go visit http://www.lizbumgarner.com/ now.
I really didn't expect anyone to like the felt owl coin necklaces so much that they would actually want one themselves. I was totally taken off guard and extremely flattered by this. Not to mentioned confused and very mildly panicked. Why? Why would this lovely attention give rise to any feelings of alarm? I thought long and hard about this.
When I was in high school I liked art class. But I was regularly bored out of my brains, as I was in most of my classes, most of the time. The irony that I later became a teacher! Anyway. I was bored in art class because I didn't want to draw the still life. I didn't want to reproduce sections of paintings by the masters. I wanted to draw the things that I wanted to draw. I still remember a friend saying to me 'if you don't copy the masters, you'll never learn their techniques.' Wow did I ever get sniffy and ew whatever-ey at that piece of advice. Now she's a highly accomplished artist so she clearly knew what she was talking about. Not that it would have made a difference had I been given a glimpse into the future. I've always had the attention span of a 3 year old with ADD when it comes to things that don't interest me.
So what was the point of that little meander down memory lane? I think what I realised is that I don't want to replicate the owls. With each request for an owl I was filled with delight which quickly turned to dread when I thought of doing the same owl again. Even once again was too much to bear. So I have decided to make lots of owls, but each of them different. I will make a parliament. Did you know that a flock of owls is called a parliament? I didn't. I will keep making and none may leave headquarters until parliament is ready. I hope those of you who wanted one will still want one when that day comes! It shouldn't be too far into the future as its been a week since the parliament decision (sorry sorry I can't resist milking the parliament thing) and I have already made two. Fingers crossed that you will like them!
Oh and in case you're wondering about the black one, he skipped the country and now resides in Brooklyn.
I had pretty much no idea as to what to expect from the 'Cocoon' album Release Party. We arrived late and frazzled as usual. But as we pushed our way through to where we could see the stage I was feeling the 'bouncing soles' of my doc martens. This was clearly not going to be one of those standing around staring nights. The singing was beautiful and the atmosphere intoxicating in a smoke free Bios and somewhere between 'Cold' and 'Playboy' I was sloshed in a rogue wave of deja vu. It was like an unleashing of that feeling of ultimate possibility that grows from devastating heartbreak. I was sold.
After that night I listened to the album so much my 2 year old had started singing the songs by heart. I knew I wanted to stitch some of the lyrics somewhere. So when I saw my so pretty friend Penny's dreamy pics from the December blizzard in NYC I thought 'Cold!' (forgive me for being very literal) and this little glass ball was born.
The base of the ball reads 'You make me feel so cold' and the title 'flakes of a frozen emotion' are all lyrics from the song 'Cold'. Do go to http://www.myspace.com/tareqsouleiman and check it (and all the other tracks) out it is so worth it. And Penny thank you for being my muse! I hope you like it♥
On Monday night I couldn't sleep from stomach pain. 'You know what this is?' said Elias. 'Its called nerves.' Damn right. I was sick with terror. I had an appoinment to have a vertically impacted wisdom tooth surgically removed the next day. F**k.
Wednesday morning I looked surreal. My right cheek had blown up to 'wow' proportions. I spent the day avoiding mirrors, popping endless painkillers (oh the pain!) and sitting in a well-lit corner stitching felt owl coins like my life depended on it.
Why owls? Well they are the Athena bird. Since purchasing a beautiful little Joanna Cave owl necklace I've been thinking about them a lot. I've also been thinking about Athens a lot. Poor old Athens has taken a beating lately. Our city has seen better days. Lots of people want to leave, but I don't. I love Athens. Even now it is a rich city with so much to offer. While I stabbed miniscule stitch after stitch I thought about the Athens that saw the original ancient coins that I (very extremely loosely) based my felt coins on. I thought about all that she has seen and how lucky I feel to be part of it.
So now that my face has semi-deflated and gone yellow (I hear thats good!) I am itching to begin a mission to discover an Athens I am somewhat unacquainted with: the Athens of Crafts. With Athena as our patron, there's gotta be plenty out there...
By the way do check out http://www.joannacave.com/ and take a look at her stunning creations. I again (see Going to California entry) apologise for not knowing how to do the things that most bloggers take for granted, like make a name a link. I will do my homework soon I promise! Enjoy!