a year

A birthday book and the makings of an anniversary mask. It’s hard to remember back to the beginning, back a whole year, a year of getting caught up and overwhelmed and angry in the sadness of it all. A year tucked away with my little family, lucky enough to have what we need and time enough to adjust to learn to do life differently. I don’t know, so much emotion is bunched up inside, and it sounds cheesy to say I’m different because of it, better for it, but it kind of feels like that, out growing myself in ways I didn’t even realize were necessary.

A year of using what I have, like taking fabric that I once made into curtains and recycling it into a bouquet for my face, finally (almost) using up that entire giant spool of black elastic that I bought years ago for making my “Midori” style planners.

A year of trying so many different flat metal flexible things wrapped in duct tape just to get a good nose seal, “wrapped in duct tape” because I sewed them into place INSIDE the mask and didn’t want it to rust when washed ..this was before I realized I could sew a little sleeve on the OUTSIDE of the mask and make the metal nose piece removable (lightbulb) and also before actual metal nose bars were a thing you could buy.

A year of sewing matching masks for my parents ♡

Mask upgrade in three pictures and a lifetime supply of the softest ear friendly elastic and metal nose pieces.

A year of trying my best ♡

Past September

September, October, now November, a time lapse of seasons with unusual warmth and unusual cold, swaying between dusty dry haze and damp chill. Everyday objects on the ironing board, a lavender linen spray I sometimes spritz on fabrics prior to pressing, for times when filling my iron from the sink feels like too much work, its gentle scent is just slight enough to notice. A second spray bottle of plain old tap water, for when I’m sewing masks, while the linen spray steam turns my studio into a relaxing herbal lavender field, the smell can be a bit much sitting a ½” from your nose all day. And lastly, my large heavy iron, the kind I’ve told myself to grab in my fictional movie style break in/self defense scenarios, the ones where I only have seconds to scan my surroundings for something to defend myself with, and that frickin iron is designated the studio wepon of choice …everybody does this right?

(Some context: I love and hate being scared, I was a kid who watched way too many slasher horror movies in the 80’s and was home alone way too much and living in a rural small town all my babysitting was out in the middle of nowhere. Dark walks home after the street lights came on. Thank goodness I’ve never had to rely on my knowledge of knowing the deadliest object in my proximity skill set, but better safe than sorry!)

I ordered some pretty fabrics online, while lovely, they are thinner than I expected. I really miss the touching and handpicking and in person-ness of everything. Getting better at being ok with the disappointment that sometimes tags along these days, the overwhelming sadness of it all, but, I can’t help but feel throughly hopeful with a new president taking over.

Kiki, she always do as she please. (Note to self be more like Kiki.)

A little pile of mask trimmings, corner notch pinwheels on the cutting table.

Sour green and bubblegum pink forever.

I made a kerchief, just a giant square folded in half (right sides together), sewn (leaving a little turn hole), turned right side out, pressed and top stitched. I love it and want make a million more.

Studio casual, not taking any calls though.

Already missing the maximum vegetable levels of late summer, my heart belongs to garden cukes…