(This post is going to involve me trying to remember how to put photos on. It might be a bit of a train wreck – in fact it has already disappeared twice and this is the third time I’ve typed this. This time I am going to save a draft before buggering about with html, really I am.)
Anyway. Last weekend I had a rare day to myself and went to an artist’s workshop at my favourite local craft centre. It was a really good day, led by the lovely Becky Adams (about whom more in a later post I think), who taught us all how to make lotus fold books. (Which is a heck of a lot easier than you might imagine on seeing one.) The theme of the day (if there was a theme, in the end everyone goes in their own direction at these things, which is what is so fun) was memory and story. People made some really beautiful things. Some very profound narrative, others just having fun with colour and texture etc. I made a present for my mum, who is 80 today, telling a little story from my childhood. And here it is:
*presses ‘save draft’ before proceeding*
This is the cover of my book: ‘Buttons: a tiny tale’. Having come up with this I have found I just love the words ‘tiny tale’ hence the renaming here.
These (try to) show you what the book looks like when it’s opened. This one has only three pages but still looks pretty good. Becky showed us one she’d made with 8 pages which sort of blossomed when she opened it up – really beautiful.
Page 1 – text: “When I was little”
Page 2 – text: “I played with mum’s button box in the sand pit (making Christmas puddings)(of course.)”
Page 3 – text: “There are still buttons to be found among the flowers”
*takes deep breath, presses ‘publish’*
(only one edit, not bad)
I was at the flea market in town today, looking at the fleas, when I decided to browse through the stall of old postcards – always handy for art projects etc. Found just one of the village where Big Sister lives, which I snapped up as I’ve promised Groover we’ll make a scrap book type thing when we visit later in the summer. Not a wildly interesting shot – slightly bizarrely of the street rather than the beach (?!) -but you can recognise where it is and see how it’s changed.
Later, over lunch, I flipped it over to have a look at the stamp, and the date. Sent in 1905. The sender’s address?
My sister’s house.
So look, here’s me again, but with a new name and things.
Sorry I’ve disappeared so badly. I’ve been on facebook and finding that the little status updates are just about my level at the moment. But the wiblog has been feeling neglected (it told me) so I am thinking maybe I’ll roll up here every now and again and wibble a few lines at you all. But probably not particularly long or detailed wibblings.
Let’s see how it goes.