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Those who know me well understand my disappearances. The creative channel opens up, industriousness takes hold and I wake up and it’s days, weeks – “OMG – could it be a month?” since last we spoke.
During these episodes, I (or a now-immune Mr. MaidenShade) find myself sitting staring into space, bits and pieces of projects, to-do’s, and random thoughts bombarding the distance between my very actively-imaginative brain and vision, only to come ‘round and realize my fingers are long-since still on the keyboard or that the pen has stopped writing mid-vowel.
Can you just see me, vacant look on my face, eyes slightly gazed and frequent heavy sighs escaping my parted lips. Frightening, isn’t it? Imagine the poor cats. LOL.
When I was a teenager, it was fashionable to smoke “dope” as we called it. You know what people said about me? “Jennifer is naturally stoned, she doesn’t need to smoke…” I guess it was just that they had to have a reason why I didn’t indulge in their form of recreation (paranoia about someone being a “narc” ran high in those days) as well as an explanation as to why I was such a space cadet.
A bit uncomfortable with the jibes then, I do smile about it these days. All of those little disparaging voices are amazingly silent now as I work creating magic.
This brings me to what I’ve been up to in case you’ve been wondering if I fell off of the edge of the earth, or what.
- I’m in the middle of several more faerie boxes and gathering materials for my Indian series of what people who have seen them are calling my “tapestries”. They said the term “wall hangings” doesn’t describe them well enough. They also said to tell you (after witnessing them in person) that computer images simply don’t do them justice. They went “oh, that’s what that is…” about specific features or themes that were somehow lost in translation over the internet. It was noted that the layered richness and intricate, detailed depth is lost – flattened into a single sorry dimension in a photograph.
- Did you notice my new header? Uh-huh, nice isn’t it? That’s because I’m getting ready. For what? Well, I’ve been researching and finally was given the answer to prayer. MaidenShade Matters is going to be moving to a dedicated site. Look for more on that soon!
For now, here are some photos (you know, everyone loves to look at pictures) of my workspace and a few shots of a faerie box in progress.
Loveleigh Sares! Congratulations, I know you’ll love this night light. 
Why not pop on over and visit her? Loveleigh Treasures is a wonderful blog.
Yesterday I was thinking of how other people pick a winner in their contests. The last few I had, I just wrote out entrant names, cut them into individual strips, folded them, put them in a container and had Mr. MaidenShade pick one.
This time I tried to be a bit more scientific.
I did a Google search on “winner picker”. Not a good search delimiter term… So I tried “choosing winners”, hmmm. Again not the desired results. Finally I tried “Random Winner Picker” and I found this site, Random.org. It has an interesting bit I thought I’d include.
What’s this fuss about true randomness?
Perhaps you have wondered how predictable machines like computers can generate randomness. In reality, most random numbers used in computer programs are pseudo-random, which means they are a generated in a predictable fashion using a mathematical formula. This is fine for many purposes, but it may not be random in the way you expect if you’re used to dice rolls and lottery drawings.
RANDOM.ORG offers true random numbers to anyone on the Internet. The randomness comes from atmospheric noise, which for many purposes is better than the pseudo-random number algorithms typically used in computer programs. People use RANDOM.ORG for holding drawings, lotteries and sweepstakes, to drive games and gambling sites, for scientific applications and for art and music. The service has existed since 1998 and was built and is being operated by Mads Haahr of the School of Computer Science and Statistics at Trinity College, Dublin in Ireland.
– from Random.org
Congrats again Sares, and thank you all for entering! Have a great week – xJ
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Happy Pink Saturday!
MaidenShade’s e-commerce host was migrating to new servers this week, so MaidenShade was off-line for a day but we’re back now so come visit! You’ll find the great deals listed below plus it’s a content rich site full of things like a slideshow on how I make a shade, tips for bride’s for attendant giving, and more! MaidenShade has Lamps, Night Lights, Faerie Wares, Art, DeStash Stuff – Go Explore!
So, I thought I’d throw a sale from MaidenShade Matters. It will run through this week on the blog ending in a give-away on Sunday, July 26th for a large, round “Gingersnap” night light. The colors are pale green and light pink in this floral fabric, with a simple, darker green, sweet petite braided gimp. This night light sells for $25 plus shipping.
To Enter The Give Away: Simply leave a comment or send an email to enter (if you don’t want to enter for yourself, give the name of a friend you’d like to enter and I’ll put THEIR name in the running!)
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Sale Sale Sale
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ALL OF THESE NIGHT LIGHTS ARE ONLY $12 (plus shipping, and tax if you’re in Florida). That’s more than 50% off! Great ideas for Birthdays, Thank You’s, Christmas – just because. I’ve never sold these at this price, even to friends and family so get ‘em while you can!
To Purchase An Item Below: Send an email, I’ll send a PayPal or ProPay invoice. You may also simply go to MaidenShade and purchase one of these items from there.
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Juvenile
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Everyday
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Goth/Skulls
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Ascent
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The Story Behind the Art |
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This time the work inspired poetry and music – in my search for a perfect quote for my Phoenix, I found a song within myself. Now I don’t expect everyone to appreciate its theme or even its significance, but let me explain what it means to me. (If you’re offended by Christian stuff you may want to skip this next paragraph.) It is a song of our journey toward perfection through Jesus to our Father, our God; a call to give in to Him, to the releasing of human fear of that giving in. Surrender isn’t always the easiest thing to do, is it? So that’s it. Our old self dying, the new self emerging into salvation – all made possible because of Christ. I guess the Phoenix is my soul. Then I have a lovely work that’s almost shrine-like, called “Blessed”. Strange for someone who isn’t Catholic, I realize. But I was raised Catholic (‘they’ called us “cat lickers” LOL, isn’t that a hoot? And now I have a bunch of cats. Hmmmm.) So why Mary? It was such a lovely painting and I do respect the woman for her part in things. I have a companion piece to Blessed. It’s called “Ascent”. It features that painting with Mary rising up to heaven with all of those fat baby/angels, by Botticelli maybe? It is so ethereal and magical. The third is a a tribute to the original Americans, it is the first in what will be a series of pieces. This one is called “By Water’s Edge”. Here’s the aforementioned poem “Phoenix of Eternal Life” that is also a song: |
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12 Jul 09 Fly fearless to the sun, Go into grace, into blessing; He will completely purify Fly fearless to the Son
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In creating my pieces things seem to happen as they should. I may begin because of a bit of fabric, become inspired by a word or a poem or be taken by an image that speaks to me its unique story.
I look through volumes of public domain line drawings, photographs, and engravings; quotes, literary works as well as considering personally authored things.
Finding cast-offs at thrift stores, Good Will or garage sales can send me into wet-my-pants excitement. Eccentric, I know. Oh those single earrings who have lost a mate, the rusted baubles for a nickle, jewels of the past who beg me to take them in, “I still hold great value” they seem to say, and, “Just Imagine”.
Indeed. Imagine my delight when our local dealer of antiquities and other interesting things gifted me with a bag full of old slips and damaged fabric-based debris. I dug through the lavender-scented cottons and delicates, finding I was literally trembling as with the anticipation of Christmas morning.
There within the pile were delicate crocheted or tatted cotton strings which created flowers and dripping filigree as they were worked by some ancient hands – Maybe someone’s Great-Grandma who was from Germany and immigrated as a young child somewhere out East, but came as an old lady to Florida for the warmth and walks on the beach. That bit will be honored in a botanical art piece, no longer forgotten, gladly rescued from the dustbin’s gaping jaws!
And here was a slip, consistent with the ‘40’s with its fine opaque pleating and intricate lace. So intimate and personal; it hinted at, almost whispered, its legacy.
Whose young breast did this slip rest upon all of those decades ago? Was it treasured for its sweetness? A favorite turned over when the young girl who wore it became the old woman (she just couldn’t part with it even though it did not fit past her plump shoulders any longer); who died and didn’t witness the contents of her perfumed drawers as they were bequeathed to strangers, “just get rid of them” the grandchildren said as they began the chore of readying the house for sale… and then it was given to me to be thought of again, and reincarnated.
Which brings us to my latest work. Two pieces are offered for your enjoyment (well, hopefully you’ll enjoy them). Introducing Moth to a Flame and Genesis 1:25.
Moth to a Flame has an interesting story. I adored the public domain image of the moth (which I found on the web stating it was “the best butterfly” ever). His wings were clipped and the colors muddied. So I healed his wounds with PhotoShop and proceeded to choose my fabrics and the color palette for his presentation. I wanted something bright and richly hued, that had sheen in its textures, something that would frame him and set him off to distinction. That done and waiting for the final steps takes us to the text. I had chosen a poem, but just wasn’t happy with it so went on a search. I found this delicious bit from Robert Browning:
Be still my heart! Which of course prompted me to research what made him write that – It was Elizabeth, of course. Oh how romantic! I get squishy just thinking of them.
In 1845, Browning met Elizabeth Barrett, who lived as a semi-invalid and virtual prisoner in her father’s house in Wimpole Street. Gradually a significant romance developed between them, leading to their secret marriage and flight in 1846. (The marriage was initially secret because Elizabeth’s father disapproved of marriage for any of his children.) From the time of their marriage, the Brownings lived in Italy, first in Pisa, and then, within a year, finding an apartment in Florence at Casa Guidi (now a museum to their memory). Their only child, Robert Wiedemann Barrett Browning, nicknamed "Penini" or "Pen", was born in 1849. – Wikipedia
‘Sigh. So, I incorporated some more Victorian looking embellishments to honor the lovers they were. Remember the ‘40’s slip? I made a decoration out of that sweet, pleated part and crowned it with a rhinestone jewel. Luscious.
Genesis 1:25 celebrates my love for order in the world.
Insects represent that every-thing-in-its-place-ness, in a random sort of way. Plus they are uber-industrious which I appreciate and identify with. So this piece is symmetrical, solid, and Old-Testament simple. It reminds me of Shakers or Quakers or Amish. “’tis a gift to be simple…” I love its lines from the drawings to the placement of each lovely bug, which were printed with a hint of green. I think the entire piece is so easy to look at and genuinely solid somehow. Below is a bit of revered crocheting, see, I harvested its flowers. Love it.
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Well we had some guesses last week on the photos I posted for Pink Saturday from my mother’s garden. Our savvy Sue, the Florida gardener extraordinaire said “Disco Belle hibiscus … am I right?” According to my mother, in a word, no.
Mom said, "mallows are flat and hibiscus are cupped" and Sue said, “Disco Belle hibiscus look like mallows, so they must be a cross of some kind. I have always been fascinated by them.”
Now I’m not one to argue with mom or a master gardener. I’ll let you judge for yourselves. Here are a couple photos from last week, plus a photo of the gorgeous thing next to a plate she sent since the initial post.
Then, for this week’s something pink I’ll put in yet more of mom’s beauties for you all to enjoy.
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 “like a faerie, dancing on the head of a pin” |
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Happy Pink Saturday, thank you Beverly for hosting. Be sure to visit all of the other Pinkies on today’s list.   How Sweet the Sound eotioe Like this? Please pass it on!
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You know that radio show, A Prairie Home Companion, with Garrison Keillor? He doesn’t know it, but I know him. We have a connection that goes waaaay back.
Yep. We do. Here is the story.
I lived in our “Lake Woebegone”, (Marine on St. Croix, Minnesota) and my boyfriend at the time was watching Garrison’s cat, a female Maine Coon, I believe.
At one point my boyfriend had to go on a field trip and so he asked me to watch Garrison’s cat, which I did. Although I was thrilled at the honor of caring for something of his, there is so much more to my knowing Garrison Keillor than feeding and playing with his cat.
That wonderful radio show came to our town and was broadcast down the street from “Ralph’s Pretty Good Grocery” – it really was Ralph’s – above the library in the town hall, in a room that had those old varnished hardwood floors and a little stage. 
This is where Marine Elementary held its productions; where my sister Molly played the fiddler and the dead wife Fruma-Sarah in “Fiddler on the Roof”. It was a small space and could only hold a certain number of Marine’s elite. But my friend who had an “in” got me a seat.
My parents were fans of pubic radio and The Prairie Home Companion was not unknown to me. As I had been raised on music, art, and the kind of lifestyle that was akin to this genre, it felt like he was our hometown-son that had made it and had come home to show us his medals. I remember the energy in that room. We were all proud that he was there and that he had done so well, his success felt like our accomplishment too somehow.
This event was an initiation into the world of possibilities for me. It took my perception of it from familiar and funny to the reality of what it was. I personally witnessed sheer magic that the actors, musicians, and especially Garrison created – I had a view of how it worked from equipment to the live performance. I remember thinking, “I could sing with this show, I could be up there – I could do this.” He introduced me to a unique version of self-realization and belief.
Of course he taught me something about writing, too. The most affirming and compelling thing I learned is that it is an exercise in discovery. When you begin, you don’t know where your story or character might go – as the tale unfolds, it leads you. I think it’s why I love my writing like I do, I am as surprised and delighted as my readers to find out what happens.
When you write, you draw on your experiences, upbringing, and emotions and weave them subtly or not so very, into your story. That’s what makes it believable and “real”. Even if it is a faerie tale. People want to recognize themselves in what you write – to identify with the work, from the story to those characters within the covers. Or, they yearn to be taken somewhere foreign, exciting, exotically new and sail with you on uncharted waters.
“What and where is that land you’re taking me to?” They wonder. “Who will I find there?” The anticipation and revelation of these unknown factors is exciting and compelling; and therefore they are engaged and captivated. What they don’t know is the author often is just as much.
I have to confess something. I didn’t put all of this together until last night, when I saw a PBS special on the man. I couldn’t sleep you see, and was flipping through channels from midnight until 1 a.m. when the special called American Masters Garrison Keillor came on. I watched the entire thing which ended at 2:30 a.m. – and was so glad I hadn’t been able to sleep.
As I watched and remembered that time, (back then I was all of 16 going on 17 and now, well, I’m not) it struck me how he’d influenced me so very much.
I thought of his literary contributions, instruction, and of course the entertainment. From his humorous and personally resonating writing style to his delivery with its lilting inflections and waltz-paced tones (he sort of speaks in 3/4 time), he is indeed my companion.
He said something though, and on this point I don’t see eye to eye with him. It was about people dying and leaving a hole in other’s lives. He said the hole doesn’t last – they just dig one and put you in it and people move on. Or something like that.
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Oh I don’t agree! I am sure there will always be hole, a Garrison-sized hole in our hearts when you are gone, Mr. Keillor. Or when I am gone – don’t you think so too, really? |
| One more thing is this, his influence has extended beyond just writing. How very funny to have this suddenly strike me – meet our Maine Coons, whose breed he inadvertently introduced me to (unless of course that boyfriend was lying about cat-sitting in which case, never mind): |
Frankie (Frankincense) |
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Cleopatra, who is our “little” girl and is dark like his cat was as I recall… |
| From MaidensWood, where anything is possible and my feet are firmly planted in mid-air – Thank you Garrison. xJ |
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