This is the time of year I'm hunkered over the sink eating juicy peaches. Our tree had so many this year that we lost more than one limb; oh, I love peaches. We have blackberries too. So sweet and dark. It floods the senses.
To our surprise the corn was still standing on our return from Arizona. One of the stalks put out silks of the most beautiful wine color. I'll get on a ladder this afternoon and get a shot for you. This is blue corn, the kind you grind into blue corn flour for tortillas. But our friend from Oaxaca says even he has never seen it grow so tall.
Inspired by Maija and Katie and Misty, I pulled out the sewing box and made myself a fabric cuff to wear for dress up. These are so much more comfortable to wear for me than metal bracelets because I can write and paint, etc. with one on my wrist. Soft and cozy.
Cindy gave me most of these fabrics when I was at her house in Los Gatos. She has a fine eye for exotic fabrics and I'm learning what to look for too. I scored some great ones at SAS Fabrics on 19th Avenue in Phoenix.
A few buttons from the stash I got from Teesha and voila!! A cuff that I love to wear. Sorry about all the name dropping but I do think it's interesting that all these influences converged on me. I never would have come up with the idea on my own. I swore off sewing at one point to make time for more painting but the sewing muse was not to be put aside. The needle and thread felt so good in my hands.
After I made my cuff I found this one for sale on the internet. All I can say is wow and wow again. That's some inspiration!!
I also made a couple of fabric flowers while I was at it. I don't have the ultimate pattern yet but I'm working on it. These two came from web tutorials that I've since lost.
This one was made with wire ribbon. They were both pretty easy but took me a couple of hours.
Finally I have a few more journal pages to post from my time traveling and home again.
Mom and the Superstition Mountains where we children scattered her ashes. Father's ashes were scattered here 10 years before that; I like to think of them together now on the desert they loved so much. We used to drive the dusty two lane roads around Mesa singing "You're Too Old to Cut the Mustard" and other songs from that era. How quaint that seems now.
By tomorrow at this time I'll be on my way to the Indian Market this weekend in Santa Fe. Canyon Road, the Folk Art Museum, Indian Fry Bread and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. A place to me that is holy, that calls me back time and again. I'm taking the laptop and have good intentions of posting from there. Sometimes the girl reporter would rather drink margaritas than post; bad girl reporter!! xo