DIY Puppies

I have a confession: I really, really want a puppy. I realize I'm nowhere near the first to feel this way, and I know there's a very good reason there are thousands of blogs and Youtube videos devoted to capturing canine cuteness, but be that as it may, I'm adding my voice to the masses on this one. I adore pups. I'm smitten with their velvety ears, their heartbreaking little faces, their sweet puppy love, and their paws. Oh their paws!

But, because of living arrangements and my current work schedule, dog ownership is not necessarily in the cards right now. Not yet. For the last couple of years, ever since my puppy-fever really took hold, I've managed to adore dogs and puppies from afar, or if I'm lucky, I cuddle my friends' pups, which does indeed help.

And while this is not a post dedicated to the introduction of a new furry family member, it is in fact highlighting a very happy addition to the home! One of the best surprises this season did not come under the tree, but was gifted just days before Christmas when Joe came home and couldn't wait until the holiday to give me this:

That's right. It's a book that teaches you how to make your very own tiny pup! Doesn't that little face look real? I was thrown at first--the pups are so intricate and expertly crafted in the pictures--but when I leafed through the pages, I saw that in fact the author, Chie Hayano gives very detailed and often funny instructions on how to craft twelve different breeds of pups--no bigger than the size of your hand. Amazing.

The pup on the cover is a longcoat chihuahua named Milk, and he is probably the first one I'll make once I'm ready to tackle my next craft project.

For those who don't know me well, this isn't nearly as random as it may seem. I have a new and growing interest in making softies, puppets, and small creatures, in all kinds of materials. I've made a few things so far, but nothing this tiny--not yet.

I still need to fetch some essential crafting materials for these guys (little eyes, some faux fur, special thread), but until then, and before I have anything of my own to showcase, here are some adorable handmade inspiration pups from Etsy:

Miniature Bulldog by Willane

Mini Spotted Dog and Rust and White pup  by Walking Olive

Felted Husky and Schnauzer by Dr Nancy's Felted Pets

Here's to bringing puppies into the home in 2015, and to lots of crafting/diy-ing in the near future! 

Cheers! xo

(top photo via buzzfeed--thank you)

Sift: Moments of Making and Doing

It's been a lovely whirlwind of family visits in Spokane and Seattle, the Christmas holiday, and a few fun gatherings with friends, all before the year comes to a close. We've been busy in our tiny corner of the world, and while I love the holidays for bringing people together with good beverages nearby, it is so nice to be back at my desk writing and reflecting on the past few days, staring out my window as the last half hour of light pours through the apartment. I feel happy. It's important to write these words down when they are true and when the experience is present: happy. It feels good to name it.

I've also felt a lot of other things over the last few days: caffeinated, tipsy, sleepy, nervous, relieved, overwhelmed, and overjoyed. The holidays do all of this to me, or I suppose if I'm taking more responsibility for my emotions, I could say this is how I choose to respond to the holidays. All trappings of language aside for a moment, I'm just glad to be sitting here now, in the quiet of this space. This is all.

As for the past week? Here's a handful of all the fun things we've been up to:

I was Secret Santa for my younger sister this year. My family has a tradition of drawing names, and I was happy to pick Natalie's from the basket this year. She's moving to Hawaii in just under a week now (lots of bittersweet emotions this holiday season), and I wanted to give her things that would not be too burdensome to travel with, but which would also remind her of home here in Spokane.

One of the gifts I gave was from a craft project I did last summer, found on Sugar & Cloth: DIY animal magnets! It's super easy, with the exception of cutting the plastic animals in half--this takes a bit of elbow grease--and they wind up looking pretty cute: little animal heads and butts jutting from the fridge.

I decided they'd be perfect for her new home, easy enough to travel with, and she might just smile and remember her adoring older sister when she grabs OJ in the morning.

This is what they look like after they've been painted gold. Nothing says *fancy* or "Merry Christmas" like a gold rhino butt, am I right?

It took a couple of paint coats to achieve a perfectly bright gold exterior, and it happened to be a brisk, windy day when I did this, which is not something I'd recommend for spray-painting jobs in general, but alas, the holidays were fast upon me at this point, so it was caution (and gold paint) to the wind.

Then I put all of the gold safari creatures into a little pouch--a bag o' gold for Christmas!

When all was wrapped, packed, and ready, Joe and I settled in, lit our new little Christmas tree gifted from my sweet mom, who knows all about our Christmas Sans Le Tree, and we got to work on baking cookies, which didn't turn out as perfectly as I'd hoped (too crumbly), but tasted pretty good, nonetheless.

How cool is this tree? Metal, light, and simple, with little gold cross-hatching painted along the edges of its frame. It's perfect for the coffee table and lighting a candle inside makes it feel very festive.

 

Cookie action:

After Christmas when we were back in town, we stole away to Atticus, our favorite Spokane coffee shop, where we read, did the Saturday crossword puzzle, drank tea, and watched the snow fall. 

Later that evening, we met up with our friends Amanda and Mike for beers at Iron Goat Brewery. A nice way to ease back into Spokane. Note my new mittens below! (Winter Wishlist)

Tomorrow it's back to business as usual, and in just a few short days, we welcome a fresh start: 2015. I know I have a lot of ideas, projects, and plans for this coming year, but for now, I'm happy to say it's been pretty darn good these last twelve months. And that's rad. 

Happy Monday to you! Hope your week is off to a good start.

(top photo via withgraceandguts.tumblr.com--thank you!)

Solstice Tidings

These have been some dark days, somehow darker than I remember them ever being before. Of course there may be some selective memory at work when it comes to winter, and the inevitable cropping of days, the diminishing sunlight, the brief bursts of sun before it sinks low in the sky.  But it's also an exquisite time of year, in spite of, or perhaps because of its somber, more severe character.

I struggle with the lack of sunlight, like many people, but I also feel a comfort in the steady rhythm of the seasons. There's something magical in the shortest, darkest days of the year--we must seek it out in the same way we chase the light, and in some instances, we must struggle to stay grounded, to remain calm and carry warmth within us when December presents us with its abbreviated, and sometimes bone-chilling days. 

I feel a deeper compulsion this time of year to relish even the most fragmented moments of light, whether it's the sun suddenly piercing through my windows at work, beckoning my gaze toward the trees outside, or if I'm lucky to be out of doors, when the sun suddenly breaks through the grey and the winter sky takes on a muted pink glow, illuminating everything--the sidewalks, the tops of buildings, the trees, passerby--everything seems to sigh with relief, even if only for a moment. The good news is, we've reached and have now officially surpassed the winter solstice, and little by little, the sun will slowly return.

On Saturday, the eve of the Solstice, we woke up to a rainy, soggy winter's morning, and though the weather persisted all day, we were determined to find our way into the woods for a much-needed hike. While we were a little worried we'd be forced to abandon our trek due to soggy clothes and muddy boots, we had a happy discovery: the trees provided a warm, protective canopy over us, leaving us to wander up the trails in a cloud of mist--which felt very much like being near the ocean. 

The cool air, the bursts of green moss creeping along the sides of rocks and trees, and the sounds of geese honking and trumpeting in lovely lines and V's across the sky were all such hopeful, bright moments in what might have otherwise remained a very dark, very short day.

We spotted this cute little tree all on its own, a solitary vestige of autumn days.  We wished it well and wondered how its orange could persist like this?  Such a sweet little one.

Joe was excited to see what had become of the eagle's nest we'd spotted in the late summer.  We saw the nest, but no eagles this time. My assumption, without being keen to the migratory patterns of any bird, is that they've found a new haven for the winter months. I'll have to investigate this one further...

Perhaps one of the happiest moments of the hike: Happening upon a foursome of deer eating a late lunch in a bed of grass. My head was down, checking my footfalls, trying to avoid stumbling, and when I looked up I locked eyes with this lovely creature. We were at a comfortable distance not to frighten them away, and to avoid ruining their grazing hour, we cut off the trail and veered left so we could peek back from time to time, but avoid coming too close.

This photo is a little foggy, but I was happy the outline of our deer friend came through. I'm also happy to report that they all remained exactly where they were, undisturbed, though a staring contest ensued for a good while there.

It was completely dark as we drove home, the rain beating down on the windshield, and I felt so relieved that we'd had this time outside. So quiet, so still, so much brighter.

And then there was this hot toddy after dinner. (Yes, that's also chocolate cake in the background. Not homemade, but absolutely divine. Both a very good idea this time of year.)

Cheers to you this post-solstice evening. I'm excited to share other holiday projects and treats this week, and so very happy to have some much-needed time with family and loved ones, both here in Spokane and in Seattle for the Christmas holiday. We wish we could be in two places at once, but a few hours apart from our home bases isn't so bad, either.

What are your plans this week?  Is a stroll in the woods in the cards?  I'd love to hear.

On Gratitude

I had a rough time of it yesterday. I was feeling icky and tired, missed my mid-day workout, which usually helps me feel a little better, and when I got home from work, I spiraled into a messy, useless train of thought: naming all of the things I desire to be different, but which I feel helpless or powerless to change at the moment.

What came next is probably no surprise: I felt guilty for feeling down, because I recognized that there are huge limitations to this way of thinking. Sure, there are improvements and changes to be made, moves that I do want to make in my life {and all of this is very general, because the list itself is not what's critical here and now}, but lost in the din and tedium of wishing and planning is the quieter, more intentional act of acknowledging and finding joy in all the good work that has already been done, personally, professionally, physically, spiritually.

Reflecting on the present moment is something we talk about a lot, but practicing mindfulness is sometimes much harder to achieve on a daily basis when we're just plain exhausted and run down. Of course there couldn't be a more critical moment than these fitful, anxious ones, to consider the good stuff and climb out of the spiral.

In my angst last night, while I could recognize that there were irrational and over-wrought thoughts in the mix, and a huge lack of gratitude happening in general, the reality was that I was very emotional, very tired, and it was difficult for me to engage very deeply in a meta-cognitive exercise in that moment.

But today I can, and in the spirit of mindfulness, I'd like to devote a day each week to celebrating awesomeness in my life and in the world around me. Because I *do* have so much good in my life, and I am truly thankful.

Everything is still new here in this {blog} space, so I'm going to try out a series in which I reflect on the truly remarkable things in my life or around me in the world. I want to name my gratitude and give it a place to spread out, to really spend time with it, and share it here.

Today I am thankful for my body, for its ability to recover from pain and sickness, for its strength, flexibility, and endurance. I'm thankful that I can move through discomfort and struggle by walking, running, through yoga and hiking outside, by feeding myself good food, by resting in quiet places, and by hugging and holding the people I love. I'm thankful to be in a body that is healthy and can go to new and different places, a body that allows me to explore. I'm thankful that my body experiences the sharp chill of bright winter days, and the soft warmth of wool sweaters. I'm thankful to be warm and safe as I write this, and to imagine the places my body will go in the coming hours, days, weeks.

What are you feeling thankful for today?

Vintage Delight

There's a new sidebar feature on Sift & Scatter now, and I thought I'd take a moment to share. As I've mentioned, I do love to thrift, and sometimes I acquire things that aren't quite perfect for me, but that I know will be just right for somebody out there. This is essentially how my Etsy shop, Loved & Lovely came to be: I had an ever-expanding bag of items that had made the cut as awesome vintage finds, but for one reason or another, once they were home and I'd tried them on again, I realized they might be better suited to someone else. And thus, a shop was born.

Loved & Lovely is comprised mostly of 80's and 90's vintage clothing that I find at local thrift stores, with the occasional super retro 70's piece thrown into the mix. I know it may sound a little woo-woo, but for me, when it comes to choosing these items, it's a certain spirit or character that the sweater or jacket seems to possess--it holds what feels like a palpable history or story that makes the piece special.

As a rule, I also try to avoid purchasing anything that simply has too much wear or which seems shoddily made. Quality tends to endure, and I try to find items that have stood the test of time.

Here are a few of my favorite pieces, now available in my Etsy shop:

Fair Isle Sweater

Navy Polka Dot Dress

Blue Sweetheart Sweater

Items go up periodically, so I'm excited to have a little space here to showcase these vintage treasures. Also, not everything in the shop is blue, though I do gravitate to this color more than any other.

I like to plug Etsy as often as possible, particularly around the holidays, since there are also so many talented artists and artisans who feature beautiful handmade items. Perfect for the gift-giving season.

Merry Tuesday to you.

Scatter: Inspiration

This sweet photo, "Orangutan in the Rain" is from a collection of the eighteen best entries to the Sony World Photography Awards. This is what photographer, Andrew Suryano, had to say about the moment:
“I was taking pictures of some Orangutans in Bali and then it started to rain. Just before I put my camera away, I saw this Orangutan took a banana leaf and put it on top on his head to protect himself from the rain! I immediately used my DSLR and telephoto lens to preserve this magic moment. Image location: Bali, Indonesia” 

Here are a couple more:

Times Are Hard for Dreamers

“Woman suspended in a mass of feathers.” Photo by Ahmad Zikri Mohamad Zuki, Malaysia

 Holi

“Hindu devotees throw vivid color at each other to celebrate the start of spring during Lathmar Holi Festival. Hindu brahmans from the village of Nandgaon are covered in colored powder as they sit and sing on the floor during prayers.” Photo by Ioulia Chvetsova, France

See more here.

And, on a slightly different note, Girls Illustrated by Nina Cosford: Yes.

And because I can't stop looking at them, or dreaming about their little clay worlds, these amazing ceramic pieces from Etsy shops Coco & Pompon and Vesna Gusman ClayArt.

          This little guy is standing moute 399.

          Also, precious little Standing Moute 349

          And some of the sweetest little houses for our tiny ceramic friends:

Happy Friday everyone! I hope it's an inspired, restful weekend for you. I'm looking forward to a wintry walk outside, catching up with a dear friend, and working on a craft project for a special someone (updates coming soon). Stay warm, wherever you are. 

This Old Thing?

Simon Doonan's leggings. CreditAlly Lindsay  

A couple of weeks ago I talked about a book I was reading that explores all kinds of topics related to women and their thoughts/beliefs about clothing--sometimes very concretely, and other times in more abstract terms. And since then, or perhaps sort of always, I've had this question of clothing, history and how we attach ourselves to objects, rolling around my head.

Then, as I was reading through The New York Times Book Review last week, I discovered Emily Spivack's Worn Stories, a collection of 67 personal accounts from both men and women, some professional storytellers, some artists or musicians, who share their narratives of attachment to a particular garment or accessory in their lives.

But of course it's about more than the objects themselves (it always is), and from what I've read in excerpts so far, it seems evident that this is a touching anthology of stories from people who share in common a collective nostalgia, a connection with the relics of their past, whether a sweater or a pair of boots, all of whom are compelled to tell their stories, to let the world know that they have lived. The object is merely their proof.

This book is a timely discovery for me, as I'm confident it will be for many people, as we negotiate attachment and meaning and how these qualities are connected to the people we love and the objects they touch. There's a particular interest we all have in pieces that are passed down through generations, and how these objects in turn, bear similarity to ocean-worn glass: exquisite in their weathered state, and in a way, mythological with the history they hold.

As I get older, I'm more and more aware of the fact that for me, it's not necessarily newness that I want, but a sense of strength and armor--qualities that are only born of time.  Give me a streak or stain, a faded quality that speaks of time spent living, working, and growing a sense of purpose in the world. It's about character and endurance, and also about how eventually, we all have to let go.

As an avid thrifter and storyteller herself, I feel a strong personal connection to the mission behind Spivack's work.

Here are a couple of excerpts from Spivack's book:

Stephanie Diamond

Artist

New York, NY

A few months ago I brought my Calhoun School t-shirt into my psychic class for a reading. I believe that every person is born with an intuitive sense so I’d say I was born with this ability just like everybody else. In the last couple of years I have chosen to focus on bringing my own psychic abilities to the forefront of my life.

This t-shirt is the oldest thing I own and I got it when I was in the fourth grade.  I made sure to get an adult-sized extra large so I could wear it to sleep.  The package with the t-shirt was delivered to school and when I pulled my huge shirt out of the box, my teacher, Jolly, commented that I should consider ordering another one in my size.  With a large grin I disagreed with her. This was just my size...

Stephanie Diamond is a New York-based artist, adjunct professor, and community builder whose work has been shown at MASS MoCA, Bronx Museum of the Arts, Queens Museum of Art, MoMA/P.S.1, and the Studio Museum in Harlem. She started the Listings Projects, a housing and studios for rent e-newsletter that’s become a staple in the art community.

Raina Lee

Writer

Los Angeles, CA

I discovered the Sex Plug a few months after my mother had died. She left me my childhood house and a giant 3-car garage full of crazy stuff. The Sex Plug was stuck in a tangle of novelty necklaces left over from when my parents owned a gift shop in the early 80s. It was the kind of place that sold greeting cards, tin patina windmills, and other tchotchkes. My earliest memories are of driving to the gift shop every morning with my mom, listening to Chinese pop songs in her beat-up red BMW. My parents later went on to own a Fish ‘n Chips shop and an Italian pizzeria, so I frequently find restaurant supplies in our house too.

Earlier this year I started a blog about cleaning out my parents’ 35+ years of stuff, and the Sex Plug was one of the best things I’ve found. It’s a thrill to wear it out because it doesn’t make any sense– am I suppose to be the sexy thing that goes into an electrical socket? It’s a “male” plug so I feel like I’m gender crossing, although I’m not really sure.

I get a kick out of thinking about my parents having to handle the Sex Plug because they were conservative Chinese immigrants, just concerned with making it in this country. I find the Sex Plug a funny metaphor for how out of place they must have felt once they got here.

Raina blogs about what she uncovers in her garage at Infinite Garage Project and is the author of Hit Me With Your Best Shot: The Ultimate Guide to Karaoke Domination.

I'm intrigued and hope to get my hands on the book soon. 

Also, fun fact: Emily Spivack is the creator of Threaded, The Smithsonian's fashion blog, which is also full of fun, quirky pieces.  Well worth checking out here.

What are you reading these days? Any recommendations? 

(top photo via NY Times Book Review)

Thrifty.

Okay, this top photo is not my home, but it's the most perfect writing space I can imagine right now, so clean, uncluttered, retro and lovely. Perhaps some of the items were even thrifted, too, which is exactly on topic, because today we're talking about just that: thrift store magic.

I love to thrift, and I know there are many kindred spirits out there who feel the same way. It's one of several go-to stress relievers I'll employ when I need to get out of the house, or when I feel the need to shop, but without the attendant shopper's guilt that sometimes follows. It holds my focus (most of the time), gives me a goal (depending on what I may need or want), and when I find something for my home or for my closet, it feels like I've discovered a secret treasure.

But thrifting is political too. Because the truth is, as a bunch of humans on this earth, most of us have more stuff than we need. There's stuff everywhere--clothes, electronics, furniture, dishes, toys, all of it. In fact, a trip to the local thrift store reminds me of exactly how much we all tend to accumulate. Now I happen to love my stuff, don't get me wrong, but in an effort to be more green and more conscious of how goods in my home are produced, I've found that buying second-hand often yields wonderful and useful items, ones that are not only less expensive, but which also come into my life with a little history and not straight out of the factory.

The thrifting gods have been good to me, and not simply in terms of sweaters and dresses, but I've furnished a good portion of my home with finds from either second-hand stores or garage sales.
And most of it I hope to hold on to for many years to come.

I've taken a few photos of my favorite finds over the years and I've included a few words about why they're special. (There are many more that didn't make an appearance for this post, but which I hope to feature soon.)

First off, this plaid chair. I found it at the Goodwill a week after I moved into my place. I love it because of its shape, its color, and its kind spirit, and I do believe a chair may possess such a thing.

This little brass elephant. I found him at the Goodwill as well, in a section of the store that housed primarily electronics, which I took to mean that he was hiding in his secret spot, waiting for me. 

He sits by the window and he's perfect.

Three special dishes, two from the thrift store, one from a local ceramics artist, all on top of a silk polka dot scarf, also thrifted, and a table, which my mom found at a thrift store, as well. I suppose I must inherit some of these tendencies. The tiny dish is from an old friend, and there's a tiny lady and her gentleman dancing together. Love.

The bottom of the table is home to most of my scarves.

Aerial view of the living room. Many of these things were thrifted too--the coffee table I made (with a little help).

Vintage Buffet. Also rescued from Goodwill and one of my favorite pieces.
Also home to the loveliest brass swan family.

A framed print of a street in San Francisco (where I spent some good years of my life), and which looks identical to Union Street or Church Street, interchangeable I suppose, but both of which are near and dear to my heart. I found it at Goodwill and it had a companion piece that I left behind, because I suppose it felt like two too many at the time. I sort of regret not buying both--but just this one makes me happy.

This mirror, found at an estate sale in San Francisco on a morning spent with two lovely friends. It's actually convex or fish-eye--not sure this is so clear in the picture.

Lamp and hairpin-leg side table. Thrifted from a local vintage shop that has since changed names to Tossed and Found. I enjoy the bright colors, and this is the first lamp I've ever really loved.

Bookshelf for some of the overflow. It was thrifted and it fits perfectly in narrow spaces. Lots of English teaching texts hang out here. It's hard to let them go, so I keep them for now.

And more to be continued, I'm sure. Also on the subject of all things thrift, I have a little Etsy shop called Loved & Lovely, where I sell mostly sweaters, dresses, shoes and boots. Please feel free to stop by, if you'd like. I'll be talking a little bit more about it this week as well.

And finally, thank you for allowing me to indulge you with a little show and tell! I do so love the old stuff and I'm ever thankful for an audience.

(top photo via middlechildcomplex.tumblr.com)