Old stash meets new stash and all kinds of illicit liaisons can happen.
As the creator, I give it form. From there, it [the piece] should bring its own voice to the table.
I confess, I have a thing for rugs. I love looking at them, shopping for them, and napping on them in front of the fire. So, I tore myself from the depths of my studio this weekend, re-communed with friends, and dove head long into a whole new craft that I am sure I must create stash for.
If you’ve been paying attention, you may have noticed that my work has taken a turn lately. Normally, I think of myself as a bohemian drama queen, all the way. Nonetheless, my artistic personality disorder seems to think I’m French.
I am happy to report that I have developed a vast and varied network of devoted spammers among my followers.
A diverse collection of gifts to suit everyone on your shopping list.
Little did I know that I’d need to define myself as a photographer and stylist, as well.
Frequently, disaster is the only descendant of my creative gestations.
What could be a better way to support small business, handmade, and needy children all at the same time?
I can vividly tell you what book I was listening to while I worked, what the weather was, and what home improvement project I was avidly avoiding—