Eww, the cream is a bit off. Until I pick up my milk I guess I’ll have to drink it black. My raw milk source is getting nervous again because a lot of new people have been approaching them about it. Goes to show you that farmers could sell this product if our state government would stop treating it like a pestilence. Anyway, this is the time when I write whatever comes into my mind until the coffee pot is empty.
First, here’s the latest progress on the tapestry:
I’m still not happy with the base to the birdbath, but I think that I can fix it with stitchery once I finish the weaving. I’m much happier with it this morning than I was last night. Sometimes when you work on something so intensely and up close, you need a little time and space to see it clearly.
Oh, I have so many arty things to say I hardly know how to begin. I have been SO inspired this week. Every night I’ve been playing in the quiet room/winter studio/cat-free room/second bedroom. I can’t decide what to call it. The other room, I guess! I’ve slept in here a couple of nights when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep or I wanted to give Sandy a solid eight hours of sleep and not disturb him getting up in the morning. I am so HAPPY in this room. Maybe I should call it the happy room. Squirt was very happy in here. Guido is always clamoring to get in here. Maybe it is over some wonderful radiating spot of content deep inside the earth.
Some people have a lot of snarky things to say about Internet communities and friendships, and I’ll admit that I used to be one of those people. But I have blossomed in the last few years, in part because of the inspiration and support I have found through my readers, other bloggers, and now I’m exploring some discussion groups. The social networking sites have never satisfied me, but I’m trying out mycraftivity.com after being invited by Ricë (who writes like I think). So far I like it, and if you decide to join, please add me as a friend so that I can find you. This site was set up by a very good publisher of art/craft books. A very smart commercial venture, in my opinion.
Another site I’ve been thinking about, but not so sure about, is homegrownmarket.com. I went there through the site of What Would Jesus Buy?, a movie that I fully intend to see since I am a big fan of Reverend Billy. It appealed to me at first because Etsy seems to be way too big, this site seems to be much less complicated, and a big factor for me was that they have “fiber art” as a category, which Etsy refuses to add despite the common sense of it and much begging from fiber artists, including me. This pisses me off royally. They don’t have a category for weaving AT ALL. But the fiber art category at Homegrown Market is full of knitting and crocheting patterns, and the jewelry, which is what I’d be mainly hawking, doesn’t appeal to me. Maybe it is the design of the site, or the quality of the photography, or the talent of the artists. It seems a bit cheesy. There’s no risk at all, though, except giving up your Paypal info, I guess. They take a commission of 15% when you make a sale, and that’s it. You include shipping in your price, so there’s one less thing to figure out. But Etsy is cheaper if you do make sales, and it has wonderful tutorials and articles. With thousands and thousands of Etsians out there, I don’t know how they get noticed other than on their own web sites. So I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try both.
I have worked on artist trading cards this week, but my coffee is nearly finished so that will have to wait until later. We have car shopping to do today, since we’re not totally satisfied with the first dealership we went to last weekend now that our salesman is out with the flu. Sandy got the Rodeo detailed and it looked as spiffy as it’s going to get. I think that we’ll go out of town to a couple of Honda dealerships and see if we can find a better deal. If not, I’m satisfied with the quote that Carmax gave Sandy to buy the Rodeo. We are getting rid of that sucker, woo hoo!
Time to go to the farmer’s market. What a dismal day. I’d so much rather be here in the happy room.
slowly she turned 