Dreaming of Boats

After staring for long minutes at Ann Wood's boats, remembering that time I took three months off from the real world to live on an island far away, and how I always looked forward to riding a sailboat or an outrigger and delighted at getting splashed by salt sprays, yesterday I made these.

I love daydreams, don't you?

Post Card Playtime

One of the things I love about creative endeavors is that it allows us to do things just because we feel like doing it--no rules to it, no boss to tell us how to do it, no reason that we can give that will hold up to the inspection of the rest of the rational world.

This is why I fell in love with Etsy seller Annarubyking's Post Card Post Art Project. While the regular seller will take pains to assure that the card or print you are buying will arrive all bubble-wrapped, clean, crease-free, and ready for displaying in your living room, Anna tells you quite honestly that what you purchase will probably get to you a little bit damaged from its voyage--and that is part of what you are paying for. The girl is asking you to buy into her own little quirky trip. I was delighted by the idea!

So I bought Post Card No. 2 on 25 February. Anna told me she would send it off the next day. Yesterday, 1 March, there I was in my sewing room, making a fabric cuff while listening to the goddess Aretha Franklin belt out "Oh Happy Days" on my iPod, when my husband comes in and hands me a rectangle of paper--my postcard!
The front has mysterious specks of black all over the surface, and one of the stamps at the back is torn, but the post office delivered on this one. Look at all those stamps!
Meanwhile, I heard that Post Card No. 1, sent off many days before mine, had not yet made it to its European destination. I would like to imagine that right now it is inside a canvas bag being carried by a donkey which is in turn being led by a postman up and down isolated roads connecting remote villages in the foggy mountains of China.

Dolls!

It must have to do with that when I was a child, my sisters and I made paper dolls and assigned them lives, complete with high-power careers and furnished apartments, that up until now I have a fascination for these make-believe creatures. It was a happy surprise when I learned that an old friend, Cez Nunez-Uhing, is into doll-making these days; and when she sent me pictures of her creations, I just went, "Wow!" The details on her dolls are exquisite. Look:

Find the chicken!

Somebody needs to go on a diet...

Cez says that she began making her dolls because she couldn't stand having her son play with mass-produced toys that, according to her, "did not teach him a reverence for things." Her dolls are inspired by real people; in fact her first dolls were modelled after neighbors whom she describes as "chismoso" (rumor-mongering).

Her stuff is sold in stores in Manila and Tagaytay, in the Philippines; and she is setting up a doll shop in Sagada where she lives. I am not sure if she accepts orders from foreign countries, but if you are interested you can try. E-mail her at cezgroup@gmail.com. Otherwise, I think looking at photos of her works is pleasure enough.

Manila Art

The January vacation to my native Philippines is over, and I'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm still attempting to shake all the salt water out of the crevices of my brain and blink the tropical sunrays out of my retina. What I'm keeping for as long as they'll last are the creative energies I've managed to imbibe and which have hopefully lodged firmly in my right hemisphere.

To borrow from this article in The Daily Telegraph, the capital city of Manila has "a thriving visual arts scene." Now I did not do a whole lot of hobnobbing in the "scene," but I did have the pleasure of visiting some galleries and the homes of artist friends based in Manila and surrounding provinces.

There was a simple lunch of two kinds of noodles and puto over at the shared studio of John Santos and Pam Yan-Santos. It would be safe to say that John is one of the more succesful young painters in the country. Pam is a gifted printmaker; I have one of her works from when we were both just out of university. Now she is also beginning to work in oil. She showed me a catalog of her latest works, and I was really drawn to how she portrayed the minutiae of the feminine life. (When I'm rich, Pam, I'll fill one of my walls with your works!) It's a shame I have no pictures except for this:

L to R: John, Pam, and me

Then there was a weekend at the Zambales home of artists Plet Bolipata-Borlongan and Elmer Borlongan. My two nieces and I posed for a souvenir shot with Elmer in his studio. Shown in the photo below is a commissioned work that Elmer had just completed. The guy is so popular that the next canvasses he was going to attack were three works that the buyer had already been waiting a year and a half for!

Plet I snapped in her kitchen, making crème brûlée with the girls:
This, I think, is a fitting picture of her. Plet is a creative whirlwind--a painter, a mosaic artist, a knitter, recently a digital artist, and she was also the architect and interior decorator of their wonderful home, so you can say that the entire place is her creative playground.





Click here for a more complete story and great photos of this blue house.






It was on the whole a satisfying trip, except for a minor regret: A Filipino artist whose works I particularly admire is Geraldine Javier. I was disappointed to have only found out that she was having a show with the West Gallery on the day they were taking the paintings down. Now that I am back in France, I have to content myself with looking at her latest works only virtually.

Help Fifi Spread the Word

Meet Fifi. She may look all soft, but she's a real activist, here to fight the many dirty misconceptions about her and the rest of her family.

Fifi will come to you smelling oh-so-sweet. You see, she's vegetarian, eating nothing but dried lavender flowers (although half of her is stuffed with polyfill scented with lavender essential oil). She won't mind it if you stick her in your closet to scent your clothes with; although she'd much rather prefer your bed, where she hopes her aroma will help you sleep better at night.

As she makes your home better-smelling, Fifi is pushing her agenda. She's aiming to raise awareness. Her message: It's Not True, Pigs Don't Stink!

Help Fifi spread the truth about pigkind. Welcome her into your home--for cheap! Fifi is part of The 5,10,15 Dollar Sale at my online shop. Check it out.

Other facts about Fifi: She's been taking up Provençal cooking lessons from Madame Barthelemy down the road, and these days never goes anywhere without her apron. However, if it gets too splattered with grease, the apron can be taken off. Fifi is 8.5 inches or 21.5 centimeters high, and from the tip of one arm to the other is 7.5 inches or 19 centimeters wide.

A Christmas Story

Have you ever asked yourself this question? Nah, I didn't think so. Still, if you're just a little bit curious, you may want to read a story I wrote for The Storque, the e-zine of Etsy. I've always loved local arts and crafts, so it was predictable that I become infatuated with the santons of the South. Read my story here.

Ode to Sleep

My Sleep Angels and a Sleep Pillow--available at my shop.

I awake already looking forward to that time very early the next morning (for I am one of them they call night owls) when I sink my head into a soft rectangle of cotton enrobed in cotton, let my lids drop down to shut off the rest of the world, and begin what is often the slow languorous promenade into my dusky refuge. It is a village populated quite often by very regular folk, but then they also make their regular appearances, my giggly vampires and my favorite chocolate trees, a few overweight robots and some nude parents, a couple of 27-year-old dead rock stars and a mouthful of singing teeth. Somewhere in there, inside a green apartment on the 56th floor of a breathing skyscraper, of course you will find a bullet-dodging, flying version of me.

Sleep. Why wake up to brush your teeth and wash last night's dishes when dreaming is often so much more interesting?