explainin loooosy

WELCOME to the Forest Flaw.
If you are here to check out my portrait work, please click HERE!
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You can see by my blog that I have many interests, including sewing, drawing and writing about various crafty art related things.
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Thursday, 29 August 2013

Why can't everything be easy?

The cat is howling for breakfast. He knows two words; NOW and MUUUUM. I swear, they are his people words.

Awake since 5:30 the dawn of time thanks to the dog apparently only I can hear across the road. determined to sleep through it, I doze until 9:30 11:30 when I get up with a cluster headache from clenching my jaw.

I haven't let the dog out for a 'business meeting' yet as I am in my pajamas. She will only conduct her 'business meetings' on the nature strip.
She is especially adept at conducting business if other neighbours are walking past or pulling up in their cars. This morning is no different. Another dog walks past so they decide to have a conference call. Much business is conducted.
As I am the lowly secretary, I have the fortune to clean up after the whole affair. I mentally move around some appointments and re-schedule her next appointment to be hosted by my husband instead.

Breakfast time. Lunch time.
Pop down the toast. check some emails. ooh, some hits on my latest listings, what have people said? I'll just reply to a few...why is everything so smoky?
I have put the toaster on the crumpet setting. One side is almost black whilst the other side is under cooked to perfection.
Nevermind, we're out of butter.

Slop him some food, consider not feeding the dog so as to not have to have more meetings.

Now, just pull out the sewing machine, ooh another email. Reply.
Reply reply reply.
No I am not super popular, the internet has stopped working. Reset internet. Reset. Reset reset reset. Ok will come back to that.

Dog barking like the apocalypse has hit.
Yes I know our gate is broken.
Call real estate.
No, I do not have the time to come into town to write this on a piece of paper hence - I am calling you. Email it? I can do that.
Ok, email. email email - oh right internet broken.

Sewing. hmm, to sew. remember the time I...
5 30 minutes later.
Ok. OK. Ok ok ok. lets go.
#time lost in fuzzy montage of cat meowing, phone calls, three - possibly four visitors all telling me the gate is broken. Stubbing my toe, getting partially dressed, pulling out materials, yelling at the computer#

It is 3:30 5:30; nothing done. Haven't eaten.
I decide to give up on the objectives of the day and pick up some material and sew my sorry little feelings out. Something for myself, yeah, a big old 'screw you world' and your dog poo, broken gates, burnt toast and constant distractions.

So I've sewn myself a mascot. A misanthropic piece of crap whom I love and sympathize with deeply. For those of you who watch the Adult Swim comic, Metalocalypse, you will know who I mean. For those of you who don't, well, here he is. William Murderface. My hero.

And here's the song that makes it all make sense: Warning, there is much swearing 

Thursday, 8 August 2013

Pirates Captains and Buccaneers

Someone asked me the other day if I blogged.
Deep in the recesses of my mind a cog turned and I remembered "I used to!" Then another wheel turned and I recalled that I actually enjoyed doing it too.
I will admit it took a few more levers, cogs and a hefty amount of WD40 to remember my password. But now my mind is fully lubricated and the rust has begun to shed, so back to the keyboard we go.

Due to life changing events that I can't a) be bothered talking about and b) literally would rather bury my head in the sand about - I am sewing again. And I like it!

Now, when I start a new creation, I usually begin with a blobby, misty shape of a thing in my head and will start gaining momentum as I go.
I am not a planner.
In fact the ideas are all in my fingers. My brain is merely there to shoot the electrical sparks required to get the muscles moving. I can feel my fingers talking to each other while they work and there is usually one who is yelling out things like "faster! you scurvy maggots. There'll be no dinner for you until this coat is done..." you get the idea.

In fact my fingers have been quite salty of late, because the last thing I made was a pirate. In fact, a rather swarthy Buccaneer.
My fingers have had a field day with this. Do you know how many accessories a pirate has? Think about it - cutlass, eye patch, hook, wooden leg, parrot, blunderbuss, hats, coats the list goes on. The more I made the more my fingers wanted, they became quite agitated, irate even that my puny little brain could not keep pace to their demands.
I finally had to take charge and draw the line, lest my Buccaneer become swamped in a sea of cliches and all you could see of him was a hook poking out of a deep sea chest with a parrot wearing an eye patch sitting on top.
"No" I told my fingers. Still they kept working. I could hear them murmuring about mutiny but I kept on going.

At last he was complete. But they did have one final victory. I found an eye patch stitched to his face. How did it get there? I have my suspicions. Which were confirmed when I looked down at my hand to see them all hiding in my palm, all but one defiant member, standing straight up in the middle.