Showing posts with label collections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label collections. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Dished

In a 2014 Country Living UK interview with Emma Bridgewater, she was quoted as saying that over her lifetime, she was quite sure that she had spent way more money on dishes than on shoes. 
I smiled at this and then sauntered out into the front of the thrift shop where I had been doing my volunteer shift—sorting incoming goods, only to find yet another set of brown transferware dishes screaming to come live with me at my house.
This brings the count up to three full sets of brown transferware. And there are others. Oh yes. White restaurant ware, a Staffordshire Ridgway 'Corona' set, and a pale pink Melmac set. I am unrepentant, however. I adore my dishes. Things you use every day should be things you love. And swapping out one set for another when I feel like a change is an activity that brings me great pleasure.





Saturday, September 13, 2014

Heavy Metal

The copper metallic glow of a September sunset over Patricia Bay reminded me of my favorite metallic bits 'n bobs around the house.



That l'il bird is by Geninne. I was lucky enough to attend an Ace Camps workshop at her home near Queretaro, Mexico. The little card cabinet is a thrift score from a couple of years ago.

Me en Mexico
More thrifting below: I seem to have a problem saying no to biscuit tins.




Wednesday, August 27, 2014

It's a Breeze



 Look at that headline. Sewing your nautical bag is a breeze—but reading 60s letraset… not so much.



Going through cupboards for a yard sale. Progress slowed somewhat by stopping to admire everything. I don't want to get rid of my 60s Tandy leathercraft magazines! :)

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Booked




Enjoying a great summer analogue-style, with my iMac in the shop I've reverted to books and enjoying it very much. Actually books are never far off my radar—even with the competition of blogs and Pinterest. No Twitter or Instagram for me, not enough hours in the day.
The charmers pictured here are a recent buy from Ex Libris Anonymous. Old books chopped, drilled and bound for conversion to journals. Some people collect designer handbags; well, this is my vice. Or just one of them, to be really honest :)
I also own one from a Canadian shop, dreamingtreepaper.com. 
I'm really partial to those that are cloth covered; though the glossy printed colour children's books and series such as Bobbsey Twins are certainly fun too.



Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Birdseye, bees + hummingbirds


Some odds and sods from around my place; I'm always on the lookout for bird's eye driftwood on the beach. Looking forward to see bees all over my drumstick alliums again this year, and carved hummer sweeties on a bedroom wall. Collections of nothing

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Pixl Rose



I would have denied that I have a 'rose-thing'… that is, until I stopped and took a good hard look around my sewing room.






Saturday, October 12, 2013

Nice

Somewhere out there in Google books-land, there is a digitized volume containing these sweet l'il flower forms.  Found it first via Pinterest, went looking for the source and neglected to keep track of it. 
Kind of ironic, given that that is exactly what Pinterest is for. Duh. 
Anyway, will go find it again and provide source when I do.



Oh! and below—nice rice girls, from my tiny collection (3) of rice bags. 
Pretty, yes?




Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Totemic

Since moving to Vancouver Island almost 30 years ago—I've become more and more drawn to Pacific Northwest art, the carvings, the rain-shedding woven clothing, the bentwood boxes and the poles, reinforced by repeat visits to the stellar UBC Museum of Anthropology. Below, a pole, or post — in the entry to the museum's great hall.


Yeah I know, just another white woman going on a cultural appropriation rampage. Being surrounded by these artifacts, though, really makes you want to know the stories that lie beneath the surfaces of the poles. The rules bounding what is carved, when they are commissioned and the tools the carvers use are fascinating, as told by Hilary Stewart in her book Looking at Totem Poles.

This D-adze tool sold at auction in 2004 for more than $1600!
  And digging deeper one finds that the coast salish had house poles; not totems.
The following is an excerpt from the Klahowya website a newspaper published by the Naut'sa mawt Tribal Council on Vancouver Island. 

"One of the events involved a series of totem poles along the new Vancouver Island Highway and at major ferry terminals. It was to be called Route of the Totems. On July 30, 1966, an unveiling ceremony took place at the Tsawwassen ferry terminal. Leaders of Tsawwassen and the neighbouring nations of Squamish and Musqueam took part.
News reports of the occasion did not mention the irony of a celebration of native culture at the terminal that was built six years earlier and effectively cut the Tsawwassen reserve in half. Nor was it mentioned that the totem was a cultural icon on northern coastal peoples while house poles, not totems, was the Coast Salish tradition.
The totem was adopted as a centennial symbol because of the new ferry terminals at Swartz Bay, near Victoria, and at Skidegate, on what was then known as the Queen Charlotte Islands. These were seen as the ends of ‘the route of the Haida’. The fact that the route passed through Coast Salish, Kwakiutl, and Tsimshian territories, once enemies of the Haida, did not seem to matter.
Haida-inspired totems, and the involvement of artists like Bill Reid and Mungo Martin, was instrumental in several generations of the public, not to mention Coast Salish artists, being influenced by Haida art.
Houseposts were Coast Salish
“While the northern Northwest Coast peoples carved totem poles to depict family or clan history, associated stories, crests, and other prerogatives,” Susan Roy wrote, “Coast Salish artists carved houseposts to depict ancestors and animal or spirit powers associated with family history. Houseposts were either a part of the structure of traditional cedar-plank longhouses or they were decorative boards within their interiors.”

I have three examples of little Haida-inspired tourist totems.



One was thrifted; the other two bought from antique stores in Sidney. Their hand-hewn charm is all the more appealing when knowledge of the crests, or animal figures represented, are understood. And after reading about Ellen NeelI'm even more fond of their kitschy-grrl-power goodness. Ellen supported a family selling totschke carvings in the late 40s. A lady artisan just getting things done; now there's a role model. A quick look online shows an example for sale at Lattimer Gallery in Vancouver… I'm feeling a bit 'wanty' after seeing this.  I suspect it may have been carved by one of her children since they apparently assisted her in production. Her serious work shows much more refinement… hardly surprising as she was a grandchild of Charlie James, a noted carver and stepfather of Mungo Martin.



Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Horsing around…



Horsey things around mi casa. A horseshoe mounted upside down brings bad luck, they say. After looking at that link, I'm going to put another on the front door in the opposite direction just to be safe.



A vintage oil painting bought for me by my husband in Mexico. 
The man who sold it to me told me he and the artist laid on the roof of his casa in Mexico city one night and talked about life. He was a drinker, lived hard, died young.


My favorite needlepoint horse picture. (Well, my only needlepoint horse picture but I love it anyway.)


Salvaged from my brothers' toybox; a carved horse head made for my dad by my grandad's poker buddy, 80 years ago in St John, New Brunswick.



Badcrafter at 18 with Hank's pony. 

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Books, Bags and Shoes

Once, as an exercise to shock myself into getting rid of things—I counted my shoes. After my shoe count, I phoned a friend and we made a pact to each get our count down to less than 30 pair. 
(This is confessed with regret; both in that I was shocked that I was the owner of 43! pairs of shoes and boots in the first place; and then that I needed the solidarity of someone else in the 'getting-rid-of' in order to carry out the task.) 
Of course shoes are the gateway-drug to fashion acquisition/addiction, with good reason. Feeling fat?
Bad skin breakout? Lost your job? Hey, your shoes are supercute—so all is not lost. This fades with age, though.  Even though the legs are 'the last to go', one's preoccupation with what's on the bottom of your legs gravitates more towards "Will I be comfortable on my 90-minute dog walk?" than "do these look good with this dress?" As a full-time gardener, nursing home visitor, dog walker, housekeeper-cook, my shoe fetish is finally winding down and, unless I move to Barcelona in the near future; I see no shoes like this in my future.
Bags, too are an interesting and perplexing thing.  I own 11; a low number, I think, for a comfortably middle class north american 58-year old. But time after time, as I head out the door, I grab a fabric tote bag—usually a home-sewn one, spurning the lovely dignified leather purses and satchels in my closet. The main reason, I think, is weight. Schlepping wallet, change purse, iphone, eyeglasses adds up, and if I start out with a bag that is featherweight I feel I have more of a fighting chance to get through the day with no hunchback of Notre-Dame symptoms. 
Long story short—the getting-rid-of will continue; the shoes, boots, and bags will dwindle in my closet.
But the books? No way.  And books about bags? Keepers. If I don't want to devote space to the physical thing in my closet, it's a happy alternative to happily hoard my japanese craft books, at least a dozen of which are devoted to bags and the sewing thereof.

Tomorrow, a look at the Umami bag book by Yoshimi Ezura.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Hooked 123

Hooked Rugs. 


Real Grenfell rugs, museum quality, owned by a friend. 



Real cute pink house rug, given to me by another friend.



Tuesday, August 6, 2013

There's A Bluebird in My Closet


Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah was pretty much my reaction when foraging through cupboards and closets in prep for another yard sale.  This little pretty was a tandem buy with the red red robin written about here.