bookbinding : : conjuring the sun with color

Twenty-two consecutive days of rain! Was starting to feel a bit soggy around the edges. Thankfully, yesterday brought us some real sun, and that has cheered me up no end.

I brought some colour and light into my studio yesterday by making these two journals:

Another embroidered allium, my first time to use a color other than green for the stencilled background. Went with shades of lavender and purple for this one. With the orange/red shades from the flowers, and the spring green of the stems, the colours seem to work. It’s cheerful, anyway. This one’s in my shops.

Note: I have had to re-open my account with Paypal, as furious as that makes me. I have tried using the alternatives suggested by, but an order last week had me tearing my hair in frustration. Good thing the customer is an old friend, used to my bumbling ways, and so very patient with me! But to have to go through all that with some stranger who is used to snapping things up easily? I realised that it would be too much to ask of the average fairweather shopper—who has never heard of Wikileaks, or doesn’t grasp its relevance, at any rate. So I’ve resolved to donate a small bit of my Paypal sales to Wikileaks, instead, to somehow grapple with the conflicted way I feel about using them to sell my handmade journals. Frustrated. 😦

And another owl journal…this one’s for Danielle (aka Miss Hurro Kitty), who just asked me for “an owl” and got this little Tasmanian Masked Owl, riding his own cloud of shampoo bubbles up a staircase to the sky. With bunting, and Words of Wisdom (I have since completed the broken-off sentence, using Danielle’s chosen word).

And danged if it isn’t the weirdest thing, but I really loved painting these little owls…their white, heart-shaped faces, their mottled feather patterns…why is it so much fun?

It baffles me a bit, because everyone is doing owls…EVERYONE…and I worry that I am merely caught up and being swept away by the current of faddish subjects that seem to be the same on every craft blog, in every ETSY shop. It does no harm, but at some point I can’t tell where the influences end and my own vision begins. I hate to think I am nothing but a mirror, repeating what I see. Scary. I don’t seem to have the guts to draw something that comes solely from my own head…


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