Inspiration on the road...

In 2005-2006 I had the coolest job: I got to go to various cities in Germany (Dresden, Leipzig, Hamburg, Hannover)several times to teach workshops for the Deutsche Bahn (German Railway.) They were preparing for the Soccer World Cup, which was hosted in Berlin, and they wanted to make sure (or at least be able to brag on paper) that their service employees and train announcers could speak passable English. I was sent to each of these cities 3 or 4 times to teach relatively well-paid 3 day workshops and also had my hotel and train expenses covered. The teaching itself was rather tedious. The students all worked at low level service jobs, were mostly middle aged and, although friendly for the most part, were not at all interested in learning English (only a few of them could really speak it passably.) Sometimes it felt more like highly paid babysitting for people thrilled to gossip and take lots of smoke breaks because they weren't technically at work. Still, I got through the days fairly easily and had so much fun in the evenings, roaming the streets of the various cities alone, armed with curiosity and a camera. It's funny how seldom we just wander for hours in the places we live. I remember getting visitors when I lived in the S.F. Bay Area and doing things with them that I simply had never done before: it was always there. I could go tomorrow if I felt like it. And yet, I never really did. Being in another city on business alone is the perfect opportunity for exploration because you have nothing else to do and NOTHING is more boring than sitting in the mid-range hotel room all by your lonesome....Anyway, I took a lot of great photos and am planning on using them for various art projects: collages, digitally enhanced/altered photographs and series of magnets. I already have some of them on offer in Etsy shop and am working on a couple of others. Here is a slide show of the photographs I know I want to do something with at some point. (I have already worked with and altered some which I have on offer in my shop Schaufenster, but the photographs shown here are the originals.) By the way, Hamburg was by far my most favorite of the cities. A big city (at least a million), it has a cool vibe and is really ethnically mixed and of course has its seedy edges with the Reeperbahn, the famous sailor red-light district where the Beatles got there start. Hannover is the least interesting (a city without a face, my husband says)but there was amazing stormy weather one of the times that I was there and the light just blew me away. That's when I took the series of Light and Longing self portraits (see blog below). Leipzig and Dresden are both cool, smaller cities but, except for one self-portrait in Leipzig, they proved uninspiring....Or maybe I forgot my camera when I went to Dresden. I don't remember anymore. Anyway, enjoy the show!

The incredible EXPLODING sewing machine!

So I posted earlier how excited I was to get a good deal on a sewing machine for my birthday. It finally came on Saturday, with a big box of needles and other goodies and a pamphlet straight out of the 70s. The sewing machine was rather simple; none of the fancy stitches that the one I use in my course has. But it was easy to use and I want something basic to start out with anyhow. If the sewing thing really takes off, then I will invest in a fancier machine. Anyway, I used it for about 5 minutes, trying out the different stitches and was having a grand old time. The motor sounded kind of loud, but it's an older machine I figured. But then my baby started crying and I had to go lay her down. When I did, I heard a POP POP POP. "What the was that?" My husband shouted from the other room. We both rushed into the living room to see a smoking sewing machine that had exploded. Anyway, that was pretty much a killer for the rest of my Saturday, anger, disappointment, etc. I tried to contact the seller but she didn't answer. I was tempted to give her a bad review (I mean, there is no guarantee on ebay but you DO expect the products to work longer than 5 minutes!!)but thought I'd wait until Monday. Today she finally wrote, very apologetic and offered to give me half of the money back which should hopefully be enough to get it fixed so fair enough. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on any further explosions or eruptions and there consequences!

The huntress

I've always loved hunting for vintage treasures. There is nothing like wading through a thrift store or pages of ebay offers for just that one perfect thing. Even the negative sides of thrift stores, like that "smell" (what IS it exactly? Decaying fabric I suppose because it always the same....), the occasional crazies or how jammed packed they are with mostly trash is somehow (almost) endearing. Perhaps I merely like the bragging that goes something like "Wow, I love your knee-high vintage boots/folkloric skirt/gold lame Dries van Noten dress." "Thanks! I got it at Goodwill for 5.99!" Because you have to work for it, it also seems like you've earned it. You can't just waltz into The Salvation Army and find the most amazing handbag of your life, you have to stay a while, browse through the rack, let it sink in. I impressed my husband two years ago in Santa Barbara. We went to the Goodwill there that I already knew about but he was instantly overwhelmed. He wandered, a little lost, for a half an hour, sure he didn't want anything whereas in that time I not only found a few great things for myself, but also two shirts and a sweater for him plus a pair of shoes which are now one of his most favorite. Still, I am nothing compared to my sister. If you told my sister I need a black dress to wear to a party with a v-neck and a hem line of 18 inches by a well known designer or brand she will be able to find it for you in under ten minutes. I swear! A natural talent, she has also had plenty of oppurtunity to hone her skills. A few years ago she did an advertising job for the San Francisco Examiner in a pretty ghetto part of the city. Since it was ghetto, there was no where to really spend her lunch hour and like hell was she spending it in the office. She soon discovered that there was a Goodwill in the shopping center next door, started going there to pass the time, and soon a love was born. No one ever asked her why she often came back from her lunch break with a big plastic bag full of clothes, but then her co-workers sounded pretty strange themselves. Later, after she had quit the job and started studying psychology, she discovered Goodwill's flagship San Francisco store, on Mission and Van Ness (or maybe South Van Ness.) San Francisco is famous for a lot of things, but not everyone knows that it is really full of a lot of rich people. Rich, spendaholic women who cast away great clothes and shoes they only wore once if not at all. My sister loves to pick up their leavings, as do I. About 75% of my wardrobe is from trips to that Goodwill I make when I visit my family in California. I've been having a lot of fun doing it here in Berlin. I'm starting to offer vintage items in my shop (actually, I'm even thinking of opening a new shop specialized in vintage)and find that Berlin also has so many treasures. People here are also traditionally more into crafts (for example, it is not at all uncommon to meet someone relatively young who cans preserves)so a lot of the pieces are hand sewn which is really cool. Then they are truly one of a kind. Anyway, here is a slide show of some of the pieces I have now. I will be adding a lot more in the weeks to come. As I stated in an earlier post, I also plan to start altering vintage. (The dress I added the buttons to turned out cool, but I ended up giving it to a friend!)

I love Berlin/I hate Berlin

Anyone who has been to my Etsy shop probably has figured out by now that the city where I live, Berlin, inspires me. It has been the subject of several collages and will come into play creatively now and again I'm sure. Berlin has been my home for almost ten years now. I once heard from a fellow (aging) ex-pat that 10 years is the cut off date. If you are still in Berlin at that point there is no going back. I will always love California and miss my family and the Pacific Ocean everyday, but Berlin has my heart. Berlin is where you can still find a studio apartment for 200 Euros and so what if it has coal heating and is in Neukölln: you can concentrate on your art and what and who you love. Berlin is where no one cares what you are doing so go ahead and do whatever you want. In Berlin, everyone is from somewhere else. This morning I heard a familiar sound out my window. It was the roaming gypsy band who makes their appearance every 6 months or so. The stroll down the street and play their instruments hoping that people will toss money from their windows. Where else do things like this happen?

But I also hate Berlin. Berlin is where I can't count on people opening doors and asking me if I need help as I'm struggling with the baby buggy. Berlin is where I have literally gotten bruises from people who slammed into me and then, as usual didn't apologize or say excuse me. It is where no one smiles at or chats nicely with a stranger; strangers are your mortal enemies, not to be trusted until they have, by trial of fire, proved otherwise. Berliners speak a language where there is no word for "anal" because the word they use is "normal". Perhaps there is no such thing as paradise....

The story behind Light and Longing

Yesterday I made a collage with one of the Light and Longing self-portraits, part of the poem printed on its surface. There is a story behind both the pictures and the poem which I thought I would post here. (Originally I posted it on my blog on MySpace.) Here it is:


Light and Longing

This is not about me and it's not about you,
these words are not written by my hand.
It's about the us that never was and always is
because, at its heart, memory is a very personal fiction.

How could I not love your valleys and summits
as they love me? Endlessly, I taste and touch
though we remain lost in namelessness.

But our story has a name. Our love is told
in the heart of an eagle and on the breath of
a lion. Longing is programmed in our cells.

With their every death and division we expand
beyond the borders of our countries until we know,
as he knew, that no one, not even the rain,
has such small hands.

But there is no us. We had no then, we have no
now. In the light of memory we may shine and pulse
like the hottest star, but to give in would only
push us farther apart.

If you believed you took these pictures and I knew
I wrote these lines together we would tumble
from the heart's hidden chamber transforming longing
with the light of love.

Hush. Turn. Listen. Call me, and know that I will come.

**********

I wrote this piece for Jasper before we were together. What happened was this: I

knew him for a while because we were in an astrology class together (his brother is an

astrologer.) Though a nice guy, I wasn't particularly

interested in him and besides, I was living with my boyfriend at the time but then we

somewhat unexpectedly broke up in the summer and I was single again. I still wasn't

thinking much about Jasper as a romantic possibility until one day in October. On that

day everyone in the course went out to a beer garden afterward. I remember that

Jasper was sitting across from me talking about his job I think (he's a criminal defense

lawyer.) In the middle of his story I had the irrisistable urge to reach across the table

and take his hand in mine. Of course I didn't as we were in a group and it would have

been very, very strange but still, the whole thing struck me like a thunderbolt. Soon

after I started having all these dreams with him in them. Usually something pretty

horrible would happen, like I was forced to live in this house that wasn't safe, but at

some point he would always show up and hold me or take my hand and it always felt so

comfortable, so loving, so intimate. None of these feelings matched our relationship in

real life. In fact, we hardly ever even talked at all, just saw each every other weekend

in astrology class. But I asked myself how could I be having these re-occuring dreams

that were so intense if it really, truly had nothing to do with real life? Then in late

November I got a three-day job in Hannover teaching English to people who work for

the German railway (I did this in several German cities to help prepare them for the

World Cup and was in Hannover four times.) Hannover has got to be one of the most

boring cities in the world but on that particular trip the weather was so stormy and the

light so beautiful that I took a lot of pictures on my time off, several of which I put on

my profile in the category "Stormy Weather." When I got to my hotel room the light

continued to be beautiful and I felt inspired to take the series of self-portraits that are

rotating on the cube above. What's amazing about those pictures to me is that all of

them are very different and none of them really look like me, and yet something about

them captures how I often feel inside. When I looked at those pictures and thought

about Jasper it occured to me: Aren't dreams as real, in there own way, as concrete

reality? Here was this person with whom who I had an intense connection only in my

dreams but how did that have any less value? Wasn't it a separate world where we

would always be together but constantly apart? And so I wrote the poem and made a

book later where I wrote the stanzas across each picture in gold ink. A few months

later Jasper and I did get together, though I wasn't really expecting it. Four months ago

we had our first child. I guess my dreams were right.

***********************************************************************************

To make the collage I took a 4 by 6 copy of the photograph with added effects and mounted it on cardboard, adding a ribbon for easy hanging. I then put tracing paper over the picture and wrote a section of the poem around my face. I coated the collage with matte lacquer and, once it had dried, added black ribbon as a border. I love using earlier inspiration for new inspiration! Below is a slide show of the photograph in all its incarnations.

Happy Birthday To Me....

So today is my 34th birthday. It's been pretty low key. I hung out in bed and read with my baby Mia beside me while my husband brought me breakfast, cake and flowers. I don't think I got up before 2 o'clock which is impressive even for me, the queen of loungers. Sleep last night wasn't so great. Mia (and hubby Jasper) both have colds which means that she was restless and he snored. I also was hyped up, as I sometimes get, with thousands of ideas for a story I'm working on, stuff I want to make, stuff I want to add to my Etsy shop. Etsy is so addictive and I know I'm not alone! Anyway, we (hubby and I)wanted to go out to a restaurant tonight, maybe spontaneously invite a few friends, but the Austrian place I was dying to go to was all booked out and he really isn't feeling well, so we are doing the celebrating tomorrow. You'd think I would be bummed, but actually I feel great because my birthday wish came true: I got a sewing machine!! Originally I wanted to pick one up in my old neighborhood, the shabby, ill-famed Neukölln. There is a sewing machine shop near where I used to live and, since the area is very far from being posh, I figured the prices would be ok. The prices were good (I could have gotten a good beginners machine for about 163 Euros) but the shop closed at 1 o'clock (or 13 Uhr as they say here)and I didn't get there until 4. Damn you Germany with your archaic early closing hours on Saturdays!! Determined, I came home and started doing some Internet research. From what I gathered, some of the machines and manufacturers are iffy, but you can't go wrong with a Pfaff. I went on Ebay and saw several for sale. One of them, an older model, belonged to a Deutsche Oma (German grandmother.) German grandmas are amazing for their one most distinct features: analness in preserving things. That is why there are so many fabulous antiques here that you can buy for next to nothing. Thank you Deutsche Oma, for your industriousness and cleanliness! Anyway, because it belonged to a German grandma I could rely on the fact that it would be in mint condition. Even better, it came with a box of needles, thread, bobbins, the works. 13 people had already bid on it, but they didn't know that I, the queen of Ebay was watching (nearly all the furniture in my current and former apartment was bought on Ebay, cool 50s and 60s stuff that I got at a bargain!) I swept in at the last minute and got it for 76 Euros, which was exactly what I wanted to pay. My mother gave me 80 Euros for my birthday and I'm pretty broke right now, so it would have been unwise and frivilous (two very un-German traits!)to spend more than that. I can't wait to try it out! Besides altering vintage I also want to add hand sewn recycled bags and purses to my Etsy shop. I am taking a sewing class right now at the adult school and have learned two things: 1. I am very, very, very slow (slower than basically everyone in the class) 2. I am also very accurate. I have a knack for sewing and have wanted to do it pretty much ever since I can remember. And, in about a week when the sewing machine gets delivered, I finally can as much as I want. Hoorah! Happy birthday to me!!

Behind the scenes: The making of the collage

When I was a little girl I loved to read. I read all sorts of books, but what I especially loved were fairy tales. The Grimm's Brothers stories were a bit too gruesome, with crows picking out people's eyes and Cinderella's stepsisters cutting off pieces of their feet (much different than the cleaned up Disney version!!) What I really loved were the stories of Hans Christian Anderson, sad stories, but also so beautiful. But I remember the pictures mattered just as much as the text. There were certain books I never liked just because I found the illustrations not so great. Ever since my daughter was born last April, I have started returning to loves of the past. One of these loves is vintage fairy tale illustration, another is poetry, and yet another, collage. You can find so many wonderful vintage illustrations on the Internet and nearly all of them are in the public domain. I started collecting them and adding digital effects so they felt more like they were "mine." Poetry came soon afterwards. I wrote a lot of poetry in my late teens and early 20s, but stopped for some reason at about 25 when I focussed more on prose. Sometime in the summer, poetry came back. I started posting them all on my blog on MySpace and had a few published in a literary magazine. Collage was also something I loved in my early 20s. I once made my (now) ex-husband a book of collage and poems, a different one on 37 pages. But, like the poetry, at some point the interest faded away. Now, thanks to my baby's inspiration, I like to combine all three on occasion. My newest collage, They are ALL of us is an example. I found the beautiful illustration of a prince and princess (so I assume) in the woods and added effects to round off the image and give it a canvas so that it looked like an oil painting. Recently I had it printed as a photograph, not sure what I would ultimately do with it. A few days ago I started thinking about what I have already written here, how much I loved to read fairy tales as a child. I came up with the text: When I was a child I read fairy tales every Saturday on the bathroom floor, locking the door so no one could come in. What I didn't know then was I AM the stories. WE are the stories. They are ALL of us. Not exactly a poem, the text has a poetic feel. And I do feel that way about fairy tales. There is something so universal about them, the same sorts of stories showing up in every culture. At this point I knew I wanted to make a collage, but I wasn't sure exactly how I wanted to organize it. I never plan out my collages, just let them happen as I go along. This is not always the greatest thing; I have ruined several by adding something I didn't like and then the paper ripped when I tried to remove it or by adding sealant when I should have known it was ill-advised; but I love the spontaneity of the creativity even if it doesn't always work out. Anyway, I added the text, but the collage was still missing something. I looked at the woman and realized she had something more of a queen about her than a princess. The man seems to almost be bowing to her, in awe. Maybe she has been enchanted and forced to work for a witch in the forest (hence the hatchet and fire wood.) Thus, I added a golden crown to bring out her queenliness. Color was still lacking , so I brought out my box of scraps and added a piece of green and hot pink felt and two pieces of thin black ribbon. And now the collage is finished. I'm pleased with the result. Take a look at the slide show, presenting the story of a collage and then, if you wish, come and visit my Etsy shop where it can be purchased! http://www.schaufenster.etsy.com