Flesh Embroidery

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.

A heart that's true

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:) 

Get Your Semedaki On

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! I get 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?

 

My grandmother's beautiful village and...

 

Everything is coming up roses

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!

Back in Black

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.'

Take me out tonight

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.

Commemorative Rainbow Coin

Well of course the felt mint of Athena would have to issue a special commemorative coin to mark the occasion of Athens Pride. 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:)