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.

Camera Crazy

Been watching New Zealand's next top model? I have *cringe*. And I happily sit in my armchair telling the contestants to move their face or pose better or generally not to look like Bambi when his mother got shot.

I hate photos. Well, I hate taking photos of myself, or looking at photos of myself.
All of a sudden my lips don't know what to do, my eyes dart furtively and by the time the camera snaps I end up looking like a starving owl that has just spotted it's prey limping hopelessly at its feet.

End effect: a smarmy and confusing "here's my dinner I must kill it my precious" expression.

It is a must that I take photos of my products, I enjoy the posing and capturing - and editing and posting them. I then sit back and wait like a Supervillain in his throne for the world to fall at my feet and supplicate to my awesomeness at creating such a wonder.*
However, I have just branched out my creative genius into a new venture called The Forest FlawDrobe.
So exciting, so fun, so great, so far. 
But I must take photos of this product. I must take photos of this product being used. I must take photos of how cool, vintage, fun, sexy and quirky these products are. 
I must convey the feeling that I have just swaggered off a B52 after swilling Martinis, entertaining the flight crew with my worldly tales whilst remaining collected and sexy ala Jessica Rabbit. 
So begins photo shoot.

End effect: a confronting and blurry "I just fell out the door of a helicopter after drinking too many apricot schnapps, whilst entertaining the flight crew by having my skirt tucked into my underwear the entire flight.

And so ends my photo career. Crop. Edit. Crop again. Fed up, I post the photos. Then sit back like a Supervillain and and wait for the world to not look at my product but buy it regardless because it is awesome.
This is just the beginning of The Forest FlawDrobe, so I must improve. I will watch the Supermodels and copy what they do. I will practice Jessica Rabbit and make sure my skirt is not tucked into my undies. I WILL master my lips and eyes.
If not, at least it will be entertaining to watch, so keep an eye out.

*This rarely* ever happens.

*Never.

I see dinner, must kill

Oh, I've had my skirt tucked in where?

I salute you supermodels. Your life is tough.

Vintage Garrison Cap

Breakfast Interruptus

As a rooster crows in the distance, the sound of a gentle breeze rustles the amber leaves outside my window. I rise and fetch a hot cup of coffee, quickly shuffling back to the warm cocoon of bed. An hour of reading my book and gently napping and I'm ready to face the day.
Slowly pulling my robe on I enter the kitchen and prepare a breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, spinach, mushrooms and zucchini. While husband makes pot of tea and toast.
It takes an hour to eat and talk, but I'm feeling pretty Zen and about to set up my sewing orders for the day.
'I'll just check my emails first'.

AHH.
Chaos.
It is like the universe has discovered how relaxed I am and decided that I can't have any of that.
Despite my recent windfalls in having advertising in two magazines at once: Shop4Kids and LittleOneBaby, it seems that at least one of them has risen up to bite me on the proverbial.

The lovely administrator and creator of Downthatlittlelane website, Tessa, generously picked me out for some advertising in Shop4Kids. I diligently made up and sent off my two creatures, with DOWNTHATLITTLELANE plastered all over the packaging, so they would know who it came from. I also had my normal tags which displayed my email address.

A few months later, I was pleasantly surprised when some lovely person from madeit posted the spread on Facebook.
(major plot spoiler here - I DID NOT EVEN TWIG AT WHAT HAD CONSPIRED AT THIS POINT BUT SHOULD HAVE - MASSIVE DERR MOMENT)
Weeks passed.
Cobwebs grew between my ears.
I made up all my orders.
I went to work and came home again.
Until I awake to the sound of a rooster crowing and the sound of a gentle breeze rustling the amber leaves outside my window...and check my emails.

Umm...did I ask for Shop4Kids to display my madeit link especially?
*heart attack ensues. time rushes backwards to the point where I see the spread on Facebook, and then a montage of everything in-between* (yes, my life is like a movie).

No, I did not. Nevertheless, still feel like major douche. But what can I do? It is in the hands of the magazine and breakfast Gods now.
But next time the rooster crows in the morning, will I be slowly rising to a leisurely breakfast, or will I be rushing to my computer to check first.
Only time will tell.
Maybe this blog will feature in my next montage.

Mad Max and Wild Things

And as all good things must come to an end, so does the life of Maurice Sendak, the creator of Where the Wild things are.

[read for literary review of WTWTA]
Sendak wanted to show that kids are not always the saccharine 'mummy dearest' characters as often portrayed in books, but instead are sometimes seething with anger, boiling with indignities and ragingly happy all at the same time. And that instead of processing the emotions individually, they will tend to create scenarios to play out these feelings in - resulting in some pretty wild imaginary places and characters.

Obviously Sendak was still pretty closely in tune with his inner child. Where the Wild Things Are has struck a chord with audiences all over the world, enabling us to romp around an imaginary place and ride the rollercoaster of youthful expressionism. All of this brings us out the other side without realising we have just been through the churning catharsis of youth's unprocessed emotions.

[Read for quick summary]
Where the Wild Things Are is a classic book. The monsters are great, the night forest and adventure is fun, and you should just read it if you haven't. If you have, read it again just for the fun of it and remember how frustratingly easy, however difficult, life was when you were 8 years old.


here is Maurice

here is my Wild thing created IN HONOUR (note not copyright infringed) of Max

with my cat Zack, who is trying to pretend Max doesn't exist. Note terrified expression of denial.

I'm BAAAAAAAAACK

No, i'm  not the little girl from Poltergeist, but I have been away for faaar too long.

Due to some strange but timely events, I have been hurled back into the forest after dwelling on the fringes for so long. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the planets aligning, but truthfully, it's been my day job.

Now I have sorted out a balance between working for a living and living for work, I am fizzing with happiness to be dedicating myself to The Forest Flaw once again.

So here we come: check out 'little one baby' magazine and 'shop till you drop' magazine for some features on the critters.

Also I would like to announce our arrival back at ETSY.
http://www.etsy.com/TheForestFlaw

I have some wonderful new creations to share - and so many more up my sleeve, even maybe branching out in a whole new direction.

So thanks for your patience - see you in the Forest soon

New Releases **UNVEILED**

At Last, let the terror begin!!

Introducing HAMMY HORRORS!

Cast your mind back to early cinema, when a titillating evening could be spent at the drive-in watching the most over the top, campy, blood lacking spook-a-fying renditions of horror the world had ever known! 

 Hammer films made horror fun long before we had slasher movies and well before the 'group of annoying teens all get killed one by one until one is left for the sequel' genre.

They made such greats as:

note spine chilling depictions like 'horrorama'. ooh.

and 

he died - yet lived! ahh!

also cert x -adults only!

Now the Forest Flaw has it's own hammy horrors - in technicolour for your viewing pleasure

Dracula

Wolf Man

and 

Frank N. Stein

These are only the first three. Soon to unveil 3 more from the hammy horror range.

So keep your eyes out, 

NOT to be Viewed ALONE!!

Terrifrying

available from here and here

Jekyll and Hyde have moved in for summer

Time off from crafting has had a strangely dual effect.


1. It has made me tired. Oh so tired.
I like to nap. 
I forgot how much I like to have a little lay down in the afternoon with a cup of tea and snooze with the cat. 
Admittedly, it took me a few days to transition from 'frantic making mode' to 'afternoon torpor', but it definitely happened.
I can now feel the two o'clock tireds creep up behind me, catch me in it's cuddly arms and transport me to the dream fields where fireflies buzz and a stream trickles past the long grass.....
ooh, look out it had me again. 


2. Inspiration has gripped me.
Like superglue between your fingers, I am stuck on this new range and feel completely buzzed about making it. I am desperate to put them all up but am waiting till a few more are completed to have a grand unveiling. I will cut the virtual ribbon as soon as I can.


So ideas are swirling, but the energy has eluded me. I can't seem to get the pace back. I have gone from 10+ hour days to 4 and feel more tired than before.
Perhaps it's the heat.
However, it all amounts to excuses.


Perhaps I need to bombard myself with obscure cliche's and proverbs such as:
*Use it or lose it
*the early bird catches the worm
*A stitch in time saves nine
*A poor workman always blames his tools
*A woman's work is never done


But in the end it is up to me to just sit myself down and do it, because as the wise and bizarre old saying goes:


*fine words butter no parsnips

The Jingle Blog

There are new things afoot in the forest! 

Busy capturing them before unveiling in January - but beware - These guys aren't so fluffy!!

After night has fallen, the leaves all rustle round. 

A hoot sounds in the distance as the fires wither down.

A knocking at the window - could be just a tree,

But why then, do I feel an unknown creature watches me?

Foxes scatter to their dens, 

the owls stick to their limbs.

As floating in on misty tides the new kids settle in.

Old as time immortal, 

foretold by tv land.

These creatures have been dramatised by actors and by man...

To find out what these critters are - stay tuned to this blog station. They are the new found offerings from my imagination.

<MWUHAHAHAHAHAHA>

Super Me vs Evil Sewing Machine

In a world where Evil lives in a machine, only one girl can thwart it.
Well - it isn't me.

I tried.
Last week - before my holiday, Super Husband bought some shelves so I could organise my sewing mess. It is brilliant. I have bags and baskets and boxes and by jingoes it is all neat and tidy.
'Why don't I bring out the sewing machine and make a home for it?!' I thought.
My memory it seems is a short one. I had visions of sewing clothes and cushions and drapes and even a dapper smoking jacket for my cat if I felt so inclined. I could sew the world - nay, the Universe.

I cut up a dress that needed altering. I cut out material for cutsie pie pillow covers. I imagined sunny afternoons sewing covers for everything and shopping for materials I could wear. So I sat down and against my usual inclinations to just turn it on and figure it out as I go, I took out the manual.

I read how thread goes through arm A, spools past 7 into 23b up and around Y and lastly loops through BX5.
I read how the tension must be no greater than the axis of the planet spinning through Gemini on a leap year. I adjusted accordingly the foot direction to match that of the ancient Incan burial rites during the reign of Xicconiqu.
Gingerly I pressed the foot pedal. the needle went down, the needle came up with no thread on it.

'That's ok,' I said to myself. 'I must have not divided the Sanskrit by Pythagoras' theorem. I'll try again'.
Thread through A...blah blah BX5 ok.
I got out the iron. I hate the iron also. I made flat hems while the iron deposited white crud all over my material. Undeterred however I pressed on (haha, ironing joke).
Back to sewing machine, I pressed the foot pedal. The needle went down, the needle came up. the needle went   down, the needle got stuck. Ok, that's ok. I'll just reverse. The needle went up, the needle went down, the material bunched up.
After I had wrenched my material out and un-picked the mess it had made, I tried again. Reread the mathematical theories of sewing machineness again.

Lets just skip to the part where I start singing the "i'm going to throw you in the bin, put dog turds on top and then set fire to you" song. It went rather well.
The sewing machine, I have decided, is cursed. Probably because I cursed it - alot.

and the winner is...

Congratulations to Miranda Rauert for winning the Little Red Riding Hood!
I want to say a big thank you to everyone for getting The Forest Flaw to 120 likes and still showing no signs of slowing down :)


I have been very fortunate of late to be featured in a number of publications, and I could think of no better way of celebrating what seems to be the month of The Forest! 
I am also very glad that fate provided a winner with a little girl with seemingly a birthday coming up - so little red could not have found a better home!


Don't forget to check out the other designs too though - my most popular and most obscure can be found at both:


Down that little lane and madeit.com

recent publications:
Bendigo Magazine
Bendigo Weekly
Bendigo Advertiser - getting the 2nd most wanted locally made xmas pressie this year!!

And bring on Christmas so I can sew the entire NEW range of goodies I have cooking in my head in the new year!!

:)