Franklyn Liegel - I will miss you.

If you were to look up Franklyn Liegel on the Internet, you'd find lots of references to his collage work, to the art shows he's curated and participated in and the students he's inspired. These two (fuzzy) pics are the only two I could find. You might even find somewhere that he's taught an amazing Collage class at Art Center (at night) for years and has a small but steady group of artists that take his class over and over and over again (for years). I'm one of those artists/students, though I've only known Franklyn for a year and only taken the class two semesters.
If you were to explore his studio, I'd imagine you'd find an amazing collection of books, judging by the way he always has one to lend to someone that refers to something in their work that he wants them to explore. Recently he opened a gift in front of the class, took one look at the new book and lent it to me to study for two weeks because he thought it would inspire me. When I returned it, I had sewn a patchwork case for it to keep it safe always in his studio. Franklyn keeps literal files on his students and reads and rereads our profiles that we submitted. One day about a year ago he came in excited to share with me that he was good friends and often shows his art with my favorite art professor at Pepperdine (Joe Piasentin).
This semester at our class has been sweet. We are only a class of 5 or 6 and all but one of us are repeats. There are even other Art Center professors who sign up as students for Franklyn's class. He's a quirky, free spirited and sometimes confusing person. He's hard of hearing and he can't see well. He has a temper. But I've not seen a professor throw so much of himself into his students - each one - in many years. We take the class because of him. And then we take it again.
Yesterday I was getting ready for class at night. I drive an hour through rush hour traffic across downtown LA to do this class from 7-10pm every Thursday. Babysitting isn't cheap. But as I was getting ready, I got a call from the school. Class is cancelled. Franklyn had passed away the day before. (WHAT?)
I'm stunned and so so sad.
Franklyn, you will be greatly missed. It was an honor to know you and to share a love for collages and quilts and books with you. You impacted my art tremendously and have given me confidence in my work that I didn't have before. You've exposed me to new techniques and artists and thoughts. I have pieces of paper around my house, with your name on them listing the things I wanted to talk with you about this week. I'm sorry you didn't get to see the quilt I finished this week that I was going bring to share or the book I wanted to show you. Thank you for being such an inspiration. I will miss you.

Timeline quilt - the back

It's hard to look at the back of my Timeline quilt and not feel like it deserves it's own blog post. I love running my hands over the contrasting stitches on the black backing.
I think of the line from the Indigo Girls song, "like brushing cloth, I smooth the wrinkles for an answer. I'm always closing my eyes, wishing I'm fine."
Or remember in the movie, "Amelie" where she finds joy in running her hands through the big baskets of beans? It's kind of like that. Therapeutic.
And really beautiful

Finished TIMELINE quilt

It's fitting that I would finish my Timeline quilt on my birthday morning. I've spent these past two months working on this for hundreds of hours. As I have spent time "re•building joy", my fingers have been working feverishly to do my heart's work... Trying to express my story and relieve my pain in this quilt.
The other day, Mimi asked me as I was sewing this, "momma, what's the story of that quilt?" (that itself is an amazing question, considering I've never made a quilt with a story)
I laid it on the ground and began to ask her questions. "who do you think might be the red? And the gray? And the other parts, what might they be?"... And then..."this part is the struggle." ("what's a struggle?" -followed by an explanation)
She pointed to the black and white text... "momma, are these the lies and scary things that were said to you?" (yes)
I explained to her that at the one black line, we see something big had to be done, everything had to end. From there the end of the story is unknown. All that is left is hope for what we don't have any control over and our prayers for a very special little boy.
At this point, z started crying, "it's too sad! I don't want to talk about that quilt!"

Somehow my heart came through my hands enough even that my kids felt it when looking at this. There is much more to the quilt and it's telling of the story than I can write here, but I think you can get the picture.
I'm not sure what to do with it now. It's not exactly a quilt I want in my house. None of us would want to curl up under it. I've been told it's been accepted to the Glendale Quilt Show next month. That is really exciting. (two other quilts of mine will be there). After that, who knows.
But as I look at it, this big, beautiful piece of painful art, I am so glad I invested the 100+ hours I did in making it. Somehow part of me is there in the quilt. Somehow my pain was released, stitch by stitch, tear by tear, thought by thought as I made this. It is completely a piece of my heart.
And now I can share it with you.

By the way. The pic of the kids holding it up in the front yard makes my heart want to burst. It's so adorable to see their little hands. But you have to know that the two tiny people behind that quilt are the two reasons I gave up my dream of being a foster mom. When that pain came between me and them, when their lives were threatened... Well, that's when that last line was drawn. And now there is the unknown... And the faith it takes to walk it all out.

Birthday dress up

I was at the kids' new school the other day and asked z's teacher why she looked so fancy and dressed up to teach kindergarten that day. "oh!" she answered, "it's my friend's birthday and I asked her what she wanted and she told me she wanted me to dress up!"
What a great idea! So I've decided that's what I want. You know I love dressing up. I've shared with my Facebook pals and now you too if my friends want to do something for me for my birthday this Wednesday, they can dress up a little more than normal and then send me a pic and I will know they were thinking of me. ;)
Even just a fancier pair of socks counts.
I have some awesome friends and I'm sure a few of them will make me smile this way...
These shoe pics are funny. The high heels are my shoes that make me feel like Barbie. I wore them to that last formal event we did for J's work. The clogs are my reality and today this pic was taken when I had to glamorously drive myself to the ER after slipping on a green onion in a produce section. I fell bad and got a minor Concussion. I'm okay, but ain't that how life goes?

Anyhow. I'm up to a zillion o clock trying to finish a quilt for a deadline and have to try to go to sleep now (and wake up every hour, says the dr!) - see you Tuesday or Wednesday!

Wear it well

It's lovely to give a handmade gift and then get a thank you picture of your gift in action. Wear it well, Nicole!!!! I love you!

Southern California crafting

If only every day included sitting in a quiet park in the sunshine, laughing and talking with friends that have common passions. They don't, but this morning did. I'm grateful for days like today, new friendships and time to soak up sunshine.
Thanks, Ramona and Hollie!

How things appear

It's easy to look at how people present themselves online and to imagine they have it all together, isn't it? We see someone's blog or Facebook pics and we think, "wow, they're amazing".
I laughed when I took the quilt pics earlier this week- and I showed you only the quilt, not the urban city trash on the street and ugly car that my neighbor has. I took this bigger pic to share the reality. Then this morning as I was waiting to meet my friend for a nice workout walk, I began to play with some silly apps on my phone. Here is a horrible photo of me, sitting bored in my minivan this morning. Then I played with it in a few apps and I had these ridiculously glam shots.

Makes you wonder about what other people hide behind their glamorous online lives, doesn't it?

Bag #4

Bag #4, a photo by libby dibby on Flickr.

Gifted to my neighbor who is so lovely I've decided she's a long lost sister.

Re•building joy and choosing hope

Sometimes Re•building joy can focus on the "building" parts. How quickly have these first two months of 2012 flown by? At first it was easy to schedule time in for quiet hikes and sunlit moments in a park. But then it was time to tour charter schools, since I've become passionate about their different style of learning. And then my kids got into a great one (but only if we jumped immediately) and we had to change schools suddenly last week. Wow, chaos is constantly encroaching, isn't it?
I'm still here though, still always chewing on this idea of "re•building joy". Not just "choosing joy", because I have to acknowledge that mine was there and then was depleted, stolen, crushed, lost - whatever you want to call it. And in my case, choosing just to be happy might ignore some pretty important points. So now I am focusing heavily on choosing HOPE as I re•build my "container" of JOY.
Last night I looked back at the beginning of my current journal. I started it about 2 weeks before G came to our home. And I KNEW KNEW KNEW that a baby was coming soon. I was telling people... I kept writing that I was going to "CHOOSE HOPE" (yes, in my journal it was all in caps, too)
Somehow that thought has been here this past two years... That I have to choose hope. I've been thinking... There are two options I have: 1- to not hope anymore. That leaves me hopeless, and if I even bother to pray or wish for things, then I am coming from a place where my only "hope" is that I can perhaps manipulate things to go my way by sheer force or willpower. Quite frankly, that sounds horrible and exhausting.
Option #2 - hope. It's foolish, right? To have been beaten down and kicked to the breaking point and to decide that I believe the future is better.
It's Black History month and I love to address that in my personal life. I've spent this month looking at the art of Romare Bearden and I have a half-read (much highlighted) copy of some of the most powerful speeches and writings of Martin Luther King Jr. in my pile of books... I marvel at the hope MLK had. Why would he believe things would/could change? Wasn't that foolish? How foolish was Nelson Mandela to sit in a prison for decades and to not only decide not to hate, but to hope? Foolish, right? Or beautiful and brave? How foolish was Rosa Parks to decide one day her bus ride might change things for an entire nation? Or is it NOT foolish to hope? Maybe it's brave and wise?
I think hope is scary.
I also think choosing NOT to hope is even scarier, no matter how foolish the choice may appear.

What that looks like, I don't know. But trust me, I am leaping at even the smallest opportunities I have for choosing hope. I think they will show me the way. These are the days where re•building takes work... But I'm not really the type to give up easily.

Modern sampler - a charity quilt

I have been on the hunt for a modern sampler layout. I really do not love sewing sashing through a gazillion blocks and though it works for a number of layouts, I'm tired of the traditional sampler. I've searched all over for new ideas, but not seen many options.
But at the same time, I had all these sampler blocks that I'd used for practicing my Seams Perfect Bee blocks each month. They were so bright and garish that I had to find a way to settle them down.
I finally decided on grouping them all together in a clump and calming them down with lots of old white (a paisley screenprint on white someone had given me years ago) fabric I had around here. I used it all up and needed a little more design, so I added the red stripe to even it out.
A friend (Tanya) from my guild has been urging us to make a few quilts in red, white and blue to donate to the Wounded Warriors organization - they ship quilts to war zones and welcome wounded US soldiers in hospitals with these special thank you friends from home. I love that idea, so I decided to use this for that cause. My other guild buddy, Ramona, gave me some leftover Ty Pennington Ivy fabric to back it with and I spent my LAMQG Weekend Sew time this week basting this quilt. I used my new extension table that I got for Christmas last night (thanks to my in-laws!) and practiced my stippling. I'm not winning any awards with my stippling, but I believe strongly in the proverb that says, "do not despise the day of small beginnings" - we all have to start somewhere, right?
Well, it's done now. And I feel good knowing some service person somewhere will know they are appreciated for what they have given.