Returning from Something Almost Completely Different

Tools at the Ready

Yes, it was an inspirational week at Art & Soul in Portland, OR.

I arrived early afternoon the Saturday before last.  Coffee, register for classes, empty the suitcases.  Less than an hour later I am heading for the train to take me to downtown Portland.

Eat.  Explore.  Coffee.  Wine.  Beer.  Powell's Books.

And the adventure of getting on the wrong train.  How was I to know that a new train line would be added last month?  Certainly was not on my old map.  But an hour spent going and returning in unknown parts of the city reminded me of my love for bridges and trains and my need to move on every now and then.

Monday and Tuesday, I attended a class taught by Jesse Reno. Wow! What I thought could be an extremely intimidating class taught by a pretentious ass turned out to be the experience of a lifetime. Have you ever mixed paint colors in the palm of your hand by splurting gobs of paint from gallon-sized jugs of paint topped with pump dispensers? I have and it feels damn good. And then to smear it across a clean surface, or a recently painted surface that you are just not happy with? Jesse is an enthusiastic and engaging artist.  I was way wrong to assume he would be a pretentious ass.   Wednesday and Thursday, I did an about face and took a class thought by Donna Watson. Time to slow down, plan ahead, and restrict the color palette. Restraining yet freeing. Calming. Until my precious, painted rice papers get yanked up into the brayer. I learned much, but didn't learn how to be patient. Perhaps that is better achieved in her 5-day course.

 A similarity between classes: in both I can learn from and even use my mistakes. This works well for me.

 Now, to translate what I've learned into my own art. A little difficult right now. We will be closing on our 'new' home in Charleston, SC, very soon and packing and organizing must begin. I've carved out a little time to create, but mostly what I've done so far is organize a few tools for the photo above.

Places People Go

Places People Visit, 5x5" collage on board, ©2011 Kim Hambric

We spent a long Easter weekend in Charleston, SC.  I have been feeling the NEED for a southern city for a long time now.  As soon as I saw my first Palm tree (or was that a Palmetto) something inside of me shifted and I felt right with the world.  It very seldom happens that I feel right with the world, so I decided to enjoy that feeling as long as possible.

I did take some photos, but since I used my iPhone instead of my "old" camera, I am unable to post them yet.  I do not know how to get them from there to here.   I'm SO embarrassed to admit this.

It was an eating vacation, as most of our vacations are.  When presented with good restaurants we go weak in the knees.  And then we go in.  And eat.  And when a quaint little street strings together coffee, gelato and croissant shops, we don't discuss or negotiate, we just go into all of them.

In just a very short time, we discovered our place -- Kudu coffee and beer.  One can visit in the morning, when it is chilly and get a latte and read a magazine.  Then, one can return in the afternoon for another coffee.  Then one can return before dinner and get a beer sample and chill out in the beautiful courtyard while gazing at crumb-dining birds and gentle decay.

I am easily enamored with places where I can say hello to someone and get a hello in return instead of a frightened or sour look, and where a three-foot-square plot of land can be turned into a stunning garden.

When can I go back?!?

Vagabond Shoes -- back home again

Ah, New York, New York.

Yes, I can make it there.  For about three days.  Then the wallet dries up and blows away and the credit cards turn brown and curl at the edges.

Love this photo of one of the windows at Bergdorf Goodman reflecting the Plaza hotel across the street. In my opinion, the Bergdorf windows blow the socks off of any other windows in town.

Another Bergdorf  Window -- all about paper.  I wish I had better photos, but the gorgeous, sunny weather created quite a glare.

However, the little glowing windows of the buildings at the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory at the New York Botanical Garden rivaled the department store windows.  The Christmas Train Show at the conservatory was about the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

An eight-foot-tall Empire State Building (made out of natural materials)

Brooklyn Bridge made out of sticks and bark!!!

A finger puppet show in beautiful Bryant Park (the Devil and Sweet Brown Bunny).

A recent purchase (ha).

If I can't go back soon, I'll just die.


If I get all stressed out about the upcoming holidays, and the travel, gift buying, card writing, cookie baking, etc., I'll just go, in my mind, to my happy place -- the sea lion pond in the Central Park zoo.

Signs of the Times XXIII and XXIV

Signs of the Times XXIII, 6 x 6"

Signs of the Times XXIV, 6 x 6"

Signs of the Times XXIII contains pieces of a vintage map of Detroit, MI. Much of the text in these pieces comes from a vintage book entitled Toward New Towns for America. This book has sat on shelves in my homes for decades. It has moved with me several times. I had never looked at it until I needed bits of text for these pieces. When I finally got a good look at it I was shocked. It basically stated that we should all get the hell out of our nasty, big cities and build brand-spanking-new towns all over the country. At the time I purchased this book (cheap and used, no doubt), I probably thought that was a wonderful idea. Not so much anymore.

Some plans for visiting cities are being formed. Most revolve around my husband's work. Some of these trips are connected to relatives. Regardless, I want to see as many cities as possible.

Trips in the works: Columbus, OH; Portland, OR; New York, NY; Toronto; Barcelona. Hopefully, I can find some inspiration in these places for future artwork.

I have completed 32 pieces in the Signs of the Times series. I would like to do some more in a larger format, but for now, nothing is going on. Today I will do some yard work since it is such a beautiful day. Then off to Target. Then, perhaps I will clean up the studio. Its littered with bits of paper, beads, piles of fabric scraps, books, torn up maps, etc. I'm often inspired to move onto the next thing while I am doing my cleaning.

I don't know about other artists (visual, performance, writers), but I often panic at the end of a large project. Will I ever be able to do anything else? Should I throw on that dark blue bib thing and become a greeter at Wal-Mart? If I don't complete something today as an artist have I failed as an artist?

These (Temporarily) Vagabond Shoes

Aaaaaahhhhhh . . . a long weekend in New York City.

The plan was to see as much as we could of the city. Take in a couple of Broadway shows (ok, just one for me). Eat as well as our wallets would allow. Visit the Georgia O'Keefe exhibit at the Whitney Museum. Purchase fall wardrobe for me.

Four out of five aint bad. My feet are still aching from the walking. The Lion King and Wicked were viewed. Ate fantastic food at Nougatine and Mas. And I purchased absolutely nothing but a cab ride in the rain.

Within minutes of our somewhat aggravating arrival (we were called a**holes by another driver just one block into the city), we had rid ourselves of the car and scuttled underground to purchase unlimited subway tickets. The city spread out before us like a carpet of concrete, and glass, and scaffolding, and people talking to themselves.


Sat next to the Flatiron building on Broadway and had ice cream on a warm day.



Played and climbed in Central Park on a chilly day.

Did the required pilgrimage to Rockefeller Center.

Yeah, yeah, there are loads of other photos. Didn't want to bore anyone with excessive photos.

Now we are home. Missing restaurants. Missing museums. Missing cabs and subways. Missing the noise and the excess. Checking into real estate. Realizing that we could only afford 35 square feet of living space. Absolutely knowing that it's not quite enough space for a family of three and a home studio.

Now, if I can make loads of sales by next spring, I can visit again when the daffodils bloom.

Now Up On Etsy

You Are Here II, 9 x 9"

I have gone map crazy lately. I'm having such fun with them. So many beautiful colors. So many interesting sounding places. Such fascinating text. I must have more maps! More! More! More! I think I'm going to go ravage my glove compartment now.

I just cut into the middle of a map a couple days ago like a drunk surgeon, and pulled out a beautifully colored Mississippi River delta. I'm going to have this scanned and printed out on the hubby's laser printer at work. I'm thinking that laser printing might not smear like ink jet printing. Anyway, I must have multiple copies of that bit of map. I have a feeling these map series are going to go on for quite a while. Might have to find a way to work in a bird or two. As you can see, houses have crept in.

Essentials of Geography I, 11 x 11"

Thank you for your input on my future travel. I'm lucky to be able to make such decisions. I guess I complain bitch to my husband about his work travel, but it has allowed us to go to some very interesting cities. The frequent flier miles, frequent stayer points, and credit card credits add up!

As a child growing up in Roanoke, Va, I had never been further or is that farther north than Washington, D.C, west than West Virginia, and south than South Carolina. Until my honeymoon at the age of 26, I had never been on a plane.

Suggested cities and countries by my blogging friends: New York City, Paris, Italy, Madrid, Toledo (Spain, I'm assuming), Amsterdam, London, Brussels, Germany, Edinburg. A few of these I have already hit.

New York is only a 4.5 hour drive (sooooo glad). Usually, a visit is made possible by those Hilton Honors points.

Paris - so beautiful it makes one want to cry. The people can be so rude (by laughing at you) that it makes one want to cry.

London - twice for business reasons.

So, that leaves a lot more to be seen.

I'm interested in as many suggestions as I can get.

To Dream, To Travel

To Dream, To Travel -- 6x4"

This is a little piece that I am gifting to a friend and neighbor. It was supposed to be a little quickie piece but somehow took up a good chunk of the long weekend. I haven't done a paper piece in so long -- it seemed I had to reinvent the wheel on some techniques. But it was still a great deal of fun. Funny, I've been looking and looking and looking at that piece, but now that is published here on my blog, I am noticing the unfortunate placement of the lady's hindquarters over that mountain range. Does anyone else notice this?

The naked lady is me, trying to decide on her next destination. I don't think it is going to be South America. But I really liked the color of that map and wanted to use it.

I have an opportunity coming up to go to Lisbon, Portugal. It does look interesting. My husband has a conference there. Our trips quite often are a result of one of his conferences. Sometimes I go, sometimes I stay home and clean out the kitchen drawers. I do want to go to Lisbon. However, there are many other destinations that are calling out to me.

Barcelona has been discussed. Madrid looks interesting, also. There are many cities in Italy I would love to visit. And Athens. And some of those more northern cities (which Google Maps has not visited yet) such as Munich, Vienna, Stockholm and Amsterdam. Then, of course, there's Paris. I'm leaning toward the more hot-blooded cities right now. That's just the kind of mood I'm in lately. Perhaps it is a result of the cool summer we have had here in central PA. I do have an upcoming trip to New York city. Maybe that will cure my city cravings (I somehow doubt it).

What I would love from my readers is comments on any urban vacations you may have had. The good, the bad, and the ugly. My decision making skills are quite relaxed (nonexistent), so any help I can get would be greately appreciated. I also need to narrow down the playing field somewhat to limit my purchases of guide books. Remember, a giveaway might just be coming up soon.

And I just KNOW some smartypants is going to suggest Timbuktu.

Some Lovely Photos

There is something so uplifting about being in London. It seems, no matter what decision you make, it is a good one. You order your dinner, the waiter says "Lovely." You choose a tacky souvenir, the clerk says, "Lovely." I love it. I need that ego boost. So here a just a few lovely photos from London.

Souvenirs

Some folks bring back treasures from their trips. A few, myself included, bring back bits of garbage, shown below.

We always attempt to travel light, but never seem to. At least not me. We had two carry-on size rolling suitcases, two dufflebags, one tote, one backback and one briefcase for the three of us. Sounds manageable, huh? Well, one tired child can't carry much of a
nything (and wants to be carried herself). Getting these items to the airport, to the baggage check, from the airport, down three flights of steps to the subway, up a flight of steps to another subway, up two flights of steps from that subway, over several blocks, up another flight of steps and through revolving doors, makes one not want to purchase anything on vacation and then tote it home. That $100 cab ride (that I wanted to take) was beginning to look like a bargain.

The best item purchased in London was the Oyster card. You can get on and off the subway and on and off the buses all day long. No cash, no tickets, no tokens, no long lines at booths that dispense tickets and tokens. Love it. Love those double-decker red buses. One could spend the entire day on them, upstairs, looking out the front window. Bargain entertainment. And the subway -- it makes sense. And the people on public transportation, at least the places we went, did not much scare us. Lovely.

And the Oyster card is such a pretty shade of blue.

My next favorite souvenir is really garbage -- a smooshed cup from Caffe Nero. The photo does not do it justice, but it is the most fascinating shade of blue I have ever seen. In a city teeming with coffee joints of all nationality, side by side, I was most attracted to Caffe Nero, just because of their sign. Electric blue. I am not one for loitering in coffee houses, but something about this place made me want to stay all day. I am going to use this cup when I dye fabrics this summer. I must achieve this color. I just wish it would show up properly here.

Perhaps the attitude is different in coffee shops in London, or Europe in general. When I am in a coffee shop in the U.S., I am generally irritated by those around me. No one seems able to, uh, stop and smell the coffee. People are frantically tapping on their laptops or sharing their phone conversations with all. Over there, they drink coffee and talk to each other. I loved it. My daughter is now a fan too. I've got to show her that sloth is good, at least in small, espresso-sized amounts.

Yes, I will eventually share other photos. We each took a camera, and now all photos must be downloaded and categorized by the computer whiz (not me).

I must now continue with the laundry. Apparently, dirt was the largest souvenir we returned with. That and our increased girth. That's what those fish and chips will do to you. And, oh, the beer. Yum.

Home Again, Tired

I would love to post some lovely photos of my trip to London and Oxford. It seems I have taken a couple hundred and need to do some sorting and deleting. Also that pesky laundry stuff is waiting to be done.

More on the trip tomorrow.

One discovery we made over there is the British obsession with perfect grass. A gardener in Oxford had gathered a small crowd. They had never seen anybody comb the grass before. Neither had I. Or perhaps he was brushing the grass. He walked back and forth over the lawn with a five-foot wide brush behind him, leaving a perfect pattern. The day before, my daughter had been reprimanded for running over the grass. She was happily running and a woman comes running, arms waving over her head as if she were instructing the landing of a large aircraft. "No, no, no, keep off the grass. Keep off the grass. Take the paths, keep off the grass. No. No. No."

What's up with that?

Heading Across the Pond

My trip to London and Oxford is in a few days. I don't think I have mentioned this yet. I haven't done much research on it yet. I still have a few remnants of the New Orleans series scattered about and haven't wanted to put anything else in my head. I'm hoping to do some new pieces in the series and also hoping to do some pieces inspired by the Zydeco music that has been in my mix lately.

I'm not sure what the trip will do to me artwise. All I need is new input to really knock me off track. It doesn't sound like I am too excited about this trip, does it? I most definitely am, but I'm just trying to get some things laid out so I can easily drag myself back into New Orleans mode when I return.

The hubby and I went to London about 15 years ago. All I remember are parks and pubs. And the flu. Good God, the flu. I have never been so sick. For this visit, we will have a young one with us and probably won't spend as much time in the pubs. We MUST do the zoo, I've been told. And we MUST see the Lion King while we're there, just in case it is a bit different than the American version.

Does anybody have any input? We will be staying close to Trafalgar Square. I have one small art museum in mind. Apparently, when we take our daughter to art museums, someone always sneaks up to her and pours lead shot into her shoes and clouds her head with opiates. Our museum time will definitely be limited.

Spring Break - Time to Rust

Not a trip to Cancun! A trip through a portion of America's Rust Belt.

A whirlwind tour of Cincinnati and Pittsburgh. I was determined to take photos of rust on my trip. I took one. Here is a photo of a rusty, garbage filled truck outside Cincinnati. After my turn at driving, I thought I would take photos -- I looked at magazines instead. Figured I would take rust photos on the way home. My daughter took lots of photos on our trip and so the battery ran out before I could take any more rust photos.

There were so many rusty things.

So now Spring Break is over. I have no tan to show for it. I guess I could have rubbed a few rusty things over my body. Gotten myself a healthy, rusty glow.

What are you doing?

My mother calls me every weekday morning and that is always the first question she asks. The first words out of her mouth. I rarely answer. I often say I am messing around on the computer (blogging). I don't say I'm blogging, however. My mother is in her 80s and that would require a long explanation.

My mother is supportive of my artwork (unlike many others I know) and I try to remember to show her pictures, but I don't often give out details. I would then have to give her a long explanation.

My husband often asks me, "What did you do today", when he gets home from work. I really don't want to give a long explanation. Perhaps if I did explain my work to people, it would give it some validation, and often I don't feel that it should be validated. If so, I would have to take it seriously. If I took it seriously, I would be forced to put it out in front of more people. That would increase my chances of having people say, bluntly, that it sucks.

I could say that my hours of computer surfing are research. Then that would lead to a long explanation. And in my explaining, I might just realize that I am goofing off and not working.

I am not sure how other artists, fiber artists in particular, go about researching for their work. I guess I've been lead to believe that artist just create. We are moved. We are inspired. We take a walk through nature and go into our studios and create. We create -- we are gods. Or we just doodle -- we are mice. I guess there is an inbetween and I am there.

As I said in my last post, I'm slowly going to finish the little bird pieces. The inspiration (whatever) that came about to create the Sweet Songs of Birds series has morphed into something else. I suppose it could have been more inspiration. Music maybe? Or maybe it is that time of year when I think of places I would like to travel. Maybe that huge full moon the other day. Perhaps it is a whole gumbo of different things where one idea cannot be isolated from the whole mess.

I think it is the New Orleans cycle. I go visit, and then I am refreshed. My body returns to central Pennsylvania, while less corporeal parts of me remain behind. Perhaps I don't notice that something has been left behind, at least for several months. There seems to be a time, at about nine months after my last visit, that the parts of me all need to join up again. I start thinking about the next trip. In between visits, however, is a love-hate relationship. I think of the bad smells. I think of the crime. I tell myself I don't love it anymore. This works for a few weeks. Then the sighs begin. The sluggishness. The need to go back and prove that I can live without it. Which I can't.

All of this thinking about it has lead to to want to create something about New Orleans. I do not do realism. I can't. I'm just not that good of an artist. I have to rely on color and emotion. So where do I start? I don't want to do anything depressing. Of course, there are depressing things about New Orleans. The homes not fixed, the hospitals not fixed, the crime. So, now I find myself wanting to do some research. I am feeling that my research is just an excuse not to go into the studio. Maybe it is. I don't want to do anything about flooding, although I don't think I can completely ignore that. There are some great blogs about the city that I have been going through. I have my ever-growing New Orleans book collection that I have been going through. There are some movies and uTube bits that I need to see. Am I just avoiding?

What do other artists do to prepare for working? Is the avoidance we (I) feel really avoidance? Is there a quiet time before the storm? Is blogging research? Are we really allowed to stare at the ceiling?

And to top it all of, I now have to run some errands. Better not avoid that. Especially since the temperature is going to drop into the single digits by tomorrow.

New Year. New Orleans?

I am still going to be working on those happy little bird quilts. Perhaps just not as quickly as originally planned. Artistic ADD has set in again and I must move onto something new.

No matter that I have had doubts about continuing to make art. Those doubts do not matter. I must do it.

But what about? The most common advice is to create from what you know about. From where you live. Someone from Florida should not be writing novels about living in Alaska. So should a resident of central Pennsylvania create art about New Orleans? What do I truly KNOW about it. A tourist has little knowledge of the real living that takes place in those cities they visit. But, then again, what do I truly know about central Pennsylvania? Well, in the winter (which is 5 months long), it is gray, and grayish brown, and grayish green, and black (when it is night). I don't feel particularly inspired to create from this knowledge.

I have been playing with fabrics and stamps for a couple of days. I have skimmed most of my books on New Orleans, several of which have been written post-Katrina. I have considered water, destroyed homes, and black X's which have been spray painted on remaining homes. I have spent the morning surfing New Orleans blogs. Many of these blogs relate tales of the aftermath, but most are on the authors' day to day lives in that city. I no longer want to include such depressing imagery, but this destruction is still a part of the residents' everyday lives. What story would I have to tell? I don't know yet. I do know that I love that city, though. It is part of my everyday life, somehow.

Right now, there are no plans on the book to go to New Orleans this year. New York would be next on the list. Aside from seeing family and perhaps joining my husband on a conference in a new city (London this year????), our vacations always alternate between New Orleans and New York City. But when I start to think about New Orleans this much, well, I usually become quite despondent until I go there.

Above is a photo of the French Quarter taken from the top floor of the House of the Rising Sun, otherwise known as the Hotel Villa Convento on Ursuline Street. Wish I were there. Unlikely there is ice covering everything like there is here. Sigh.

Urban Withdrawal

I just returned from a brief trip to San Francisco. After spending a day driving to Monterey and environs and another day visiting my husband’s relatives, that left one day and an additional dinner in San Francisco itself. I had to wrench myself away and climb onto the plane to leave. I have only been to California once before and then had a 1-hour whirlwind drive through San Francisco, so I wasn’t sure I would even like the city. Now, I want to scrounge up some more funds and visit again.

For those who do not know, I live in central Pennsylvania. You know the place. It’s where those who feel the effects of a declining economy cling to guns and religion. There is a dramatic contrast between my place and the place I just left. Yes, State College has its lively moments. The students of Penn State give the town that youthful, edgy feel. There is an art museum, one or two “upscale” restaurants. We even have boutiques (geared to the young and svelte). Travel a quarter mile from the town and there is “big box” country, McDonald’sTargetBestBuy. Travel a few more feet and you are in the country. Rusty Chevy country. Mullet country. Toppled trailer country. Cows, pigs, shirtless dudes cleaning their guns country.

Right now, I’d give money to see a pigeon and hear a car horn!

I know I will return to “normal” in another couple of days. I will feel less of a need for a city fix. But at the back of my mind, I will see bridges and skyscrapers, café tables and taxis. I will settle in. Birds will be fed. Quiet walks will be taken with the dog. I will revel in my nearby Target.

O.K. things we did:

Fisherman’s wharf – if kids are happy, then parents are happy. What else can I say? Had a good lunch at Scoma’s.

Cable Car – would have been better if shopping at the other end had been in the plan. Got off & then paid & waited in long line to get on again.

Excellent things we did:

Dinner at Luella - 1896 Hyde Street

Walking the streets and alleyways.

Trek to Coit Tower. Love those steps with all the beautiful gardens. A hike in the country does not usually appeal to me. A hike in the city is far superior.

Dinner at Street Restaurant – 2141Polk Street.


So my goal is to go again & do it better. Any suggestions?

New Orleans is Alive and (getting) Well

We just returned from a fantastic trip to New Orleans. I know what you are probably thinking. Why would anybody want to go to New Orleans? Well, loads of reasons we will get to soon.


I am not going to say that New Orleans has recovered. I'm not here to say it is the cleanest, safest city in the United States. I am here to say that New Orleans is the most incredible city in this country.

Yes, parts of the city are still lying quietly in ruins. There are neighborhoods completely devastated by flooding that are slowly being rebuilt. Some neighborhoods received little water and have recovered rather quickly. Still other neighborhoods (many) were not flooded and you would not be able to tell that anything had ever happened.

One of our favorite places in New Orleans is the Audubon Zoo. Most of the animals fared quite well through the hurricane and its aftermath. The zoo is in great shape and was full of visitors. We were able to take the St. Charles streetcar all the way to the zoo. The majority of the St. Charles streetcar route has been repaired and the cars were full of locals and tourists.

One day was spent in City Park. Most of the park has been restored. Some buildings will have to be torn down and the golf courses have not been repaired, yet the majority of the park is in great shape. We first went to the New Orleans Museum of Art -- a fantastic museum in a beautiful building. Then on to the sculpture garden. While several trees were lost, many of the beautiful live oaks remain. Many trees have already been replaced.





A great deal of wildlife can be found in the park. We even saw pelicans fishing -- although I didn't managed to get a photo of one. I did manage to capture this fellow, though.



Also in City Park is a small amusement park. Aside from the now missing ferris wheel, the park is back to normal. We rode the Ladybug roller coaster 5 times! My daughter was extremely fearless -- I screamed. Each time.



Lily and I rode the recently restored carousel. The indoor carousel had been flooded and the horses and animals almost ruined. They have recently been returned to New Orleans after being restored. Dozens and dozens of brass plaques on the carousel name the donors who helped put this stunning ride back together. I cried a little.



I've cried dozens of times since Katrina. I still do. There is still a long way to go for the residents who still live there and those who want to come back. Yet now I often cry for good reasons. I cried when I read that Commander's Palace had reopened. I cried when I read that the sea lions had been returned to the Zoo. I cried when I stood on a street corner last Sunday and saw the St. Charles streetcar rounding the corner to come and pick me up.


The people that live and work there thanked us several times for coming to visit. I'm glad I went and I am looking forward to my next trip. It looks like it might be a couple of years before I can get back. That is too long. I need to sell some of my work so I can go back sooner.

Travel and Inspiration

I spent last weekend in (or nearby) Ft. Worth, Texas. I thought I might get some inspiration from the landscape and from doing some "authentic" Texas sightseeing. But with several kids in tow (only one my own), we went to the zoo. Fun, but not exactly inspiration for art. A submerged hippo is a submerged hippo no matter where you are.

One interesting diversion was the meat fest at Texas de Brazil Restaurant in Ft. Worth. Our table of 8 (+ one non-meat eating baby) was surrounded for 60 minutes with sword-wielding, meat slicing men. Beef, chicken, beef, pork, beef and more beef sliced right on your plate. And then dessert. I'm overcome just thinking about it. Great food, highly recommended, just wouldn't do it again for another year.

As far as art inspiration, my issue of Cloth, Paper, Scissors, provided the greatest amount of motivation to create. My three-hour plane ride forced me to read ALL of the articles, many I would have skipped because they might not pertain to fiber art. One reason I did pick up this issue was for the Kelly Rae Roberts article. Her yearning to find a creative outlet is definitely something I understand. Yet, her becoming an artist was not her initial goal, but a result of reaching a goal of becoming a runner. By achieving this goal, she knew she could achieve other goals. I do wish to get further in the world with my art. But perhaps I need another goal to achieve first.

For now, my goal will be to find a goal.