Happy New Year!

Uber-cool carafe for all your incognito "Cheapo Vino" needs

No resolutions, no spread, no war paint, no house guests, no party, no pressure. I ended a good year with good vibes; peace, love, cheap wine and cupcakes with sprinkles and party hats!

DIY Cupcake party hats

Fortune Teller Miracle Fish predicts, "passion" for 2009. I'll take it.

And now for some aged "cheese" to go with that cheap wine!

Happy New Year!

Peace

Ezra Jack Keats

Brooklynite, Ezra Jack Keats was one of the first artists whose work I could identify on sight in childhood. There was an undeniable charm in his portrayal of urban life and multiculturalism. After reading the books, I remember sitting and writing my own stories based on the pictures. His work resonated deeply with me as a child, but even more now as an adult. Alongside urban life and multiculturalism is the overall innocence of childhood that I still find quite comforting, hence the children's book collection.

Favorite Guy bought this vintage (1970) first print, library issue of Hi Cat! for me this Christmas and I am in love! Check it out.

I am too excited to add Hi Cat! my collection of children's books. Who were some of your favorite childhood artists, authors and illustrators?

If you're happy and you know it...

you're a skank! At least that's what they tell me. Yes, I've been in the Etsy fora again. Your place to buy and sell all things handmade and receive parenting advice from the in-house expert panel of child-free (or still in diapers) advisers. In addition, they're now offering-for a limited time (I hope.) self-esteem and awareness tips from glue gun PhDs and chastity chastising from the piety police.

The rant: teens (co-eds and legal adults) and "provocative" dress. (Examples given were: tank tops, low rise jeans, flared jeans, Nikes for babies and heels for 5 year olds-practical, not at all, provocative...not so much.) Having been muted twice for my brilliant commentary and clever placement of the f-bomb, I have taken my annoyance to a new venue. Two things I know about business are 1. Never get your meat where you make your bread. 2. Pretty in Peace is not the place for my five foot fury.

As a parent of a teen, a shapely confident woman and a progressive, liberal, feminist, bad ass, I take extreme offense to the likening of loving one's self to being lewd and lascivious. In fact it couldn't be further from the truth. Ask around, you'll find secure, confident young women are less likely to feel pressured to "put out", or experiment with drugs and alcohol. That's right. They're high on life and the occasional low-rise jeans. Sexuality is not a crime.

In my younger years and even now-don't let the homeschooling fool you, I had no issue flaunting my WHR in a pair of low-rise boot cut stretch Gap jeans. What better place to house the Great Brown Round?! Much like the academic awards and certificates that hung on the wall, this temple has been hard earned and well maintained. Why hide it? Mind, body, spirit-all of it is mine.

So now, just what are slut jeans, shirts, shoes? What is "inviting a predator"? Why are Bratz dolls a formidable opponent to an involved parent? They sure as hell get no wins around here. Get real. How is bashing self expression and confidence any different than fat hate? If I'm not to make the assumption that the woman in the plus sized caftan is unhappy with her body size, depressed and shiftless, how can one in the same vein assume that form fitting attire is any indication of a lack of prudence, self respect or a cry for negative attention? Further, what do we call men who work out at the gym 8 times a week when they step out in their form fitting Ricky Martin gear? You don't. You hope they'll call you! Well, I'm calling foul and I'm calling ya'll out.

When my parents were teens, dungarees were the devil. In the 70's, hot pants were the fastest route to Hades. In the 80's my Calvin Klein mini was a cardinal sin. The 90's...well the 90's were an abomination, but you get the point. It's about more than just the packaging. Ease up on the Haterade, it's bad for your teeth.

Our children are not ourselves. Hell, they aren't even our children, ask Gibran. Trust if you are making the investments, the rewards will be vested and so what if they're housed in a pair of low rise boot cut stretch Gap jeans! (If I type it enough, I'm hoping maybe they will bring them back.)

And, if I'm talking out of my finely shaped ass, please tell me how your life has been adversely affected by pubescent crimes of fashion, and I'll buy you a beer.

Shutter Click & Chat 12/28

Awesome

Originally, this week's picture was leaning towards a sunset or the beauty of the desert skyline, and then things changed. Following the incident with my daughter, some internal struggles, and the deluge of image-based, superficial "New You" resolutions I've heard and read these past few weeks, I decided it would be about me, and you, and everyone else. We are all awesome in our own right.

My mom sent this photo to me along with some other early childhood photos. I chose this one because it wasn't one of my better playground years. I showed it to Yael, who after overcoming her initial disbelief, appeared comforted- giddy even, at the knowledge that her mother, 25 years ago with overjet malocclusion and diastema or, 25 lbs and a few short years ago was no less awesome than I am today. And, neither is she, nor anyone else. Now, show me your awesome.

1st Shutter Click & Chat of 2009

Jan 4th is self portrait Sunday. If you've never played, now is the perfect time to introduce yourself .

Have a peaceful new year.

Until next time...

I survived it, all of it! The high holidays, like natural childbirth stories just aren't complete without pain and disaster. A dancing-table-breaking-drunken-uncle, hemorrhoids-these little oddities make life rich and colorful. Luckily, all of the rich and colorful antics took place on the East Coast-All Quiet On The Western Front! Here are some pics and bits:

The Party: Yes, the one I mentioned with actual real live people. Good times, their sofa was positioned perfectly. I found the lager and a spot in the far (read: farthest) right corner of the room. No battle hymns though...the battle was taking place between my occipital lobe and my small intestines after a bit of the fine lager. Methinks I'm still fragile from my bout with the cooties. But do get a load of my war paint!

The Baking: I have a bone to pick with Alton Brown and his flour free coconut macaroons, they were tasty but more candy than cookie consistency and not at all aesthetically pleasing enough for cookie tray presentation. I had to ditch the first batch, add some flour and try again. The chocolate crinkles on the other hand were a hit!

The Cooking: Blood alcohol level notwithstanding everything was delicious. Rave reviews from the carnivores on the taramosalata (I didn't cheat-I wanted to though) lemon chicken and potatoes which tends to worry me since I prepare meat dishes without tasting them myself. "Spin"akopita, and the veggie moussaka (I totally should've taken pictures of the layers.) equally awesome. My veggie moussaka has the power to convert carnivores. Believe me. Considers e-mailing guest for testimonials.

The Rest: We couldn't ask for a better Christmas, the love, the traditions, the food, the friends; old and new, the laughs, the rain, the Danish Butter cookies, the sofa-sized new bike seat (see: Danish Butter Cookies), Santa, the reindeer, my Dictionary of American Writers, Rocky Horror Picture Show on DVD so I can do "the time warp again" and again and again, new cookbooks, toys that make me giddier than Yael and, loads of love-filled gazes for Jordan! Laughs at Fly-tie.

Now, until next time-where are my pajamas? Oh and,how are all of you?! Good times abound?

Peace

This means war...

War paint that is! Favorite guy and I are going to a party! Yes, a real party with people and party stuff. The young lady our Jordan is "seeing"(Which I am told is not to be mistaken with dating or the antiquated, going out."Get with it mom".) is the spawn of social beings. They are part of a social club (Shudders, but just a bit.)

I've been obsessing, I mean planning my hostess gift recipe, outfit and of course, parties mean war paint! Every time an event arises, I slather on the pore-clogging, erm... complexion evening stuff. And afterwards, I scrub and kvetch and, I tug at the gooified lashes attached to my tender blackened lids. It truly is a battle. Nevertheless, in a few short hours I will pop my spinach parmesan pinwheels in the oven, dig the battle palette from the depths, toss the smelly expired stuff and begin painting away.

Of course there will be pictures and battle stories...if I drink enough fine lager I may even compose a battle hymn. Stay tuned. Happy holidays, no really I mean it!

Christmas Tag!

The lovely and talented Angela over at Paper Menagerie tagged me while I had the cooties and, I'm just getting around to it with a little spin I borrowed from April of Mayhem Arts.

Christmas Tag

1. I have set a Washington women's (nee.) family precedent as the youngest to host Christmas dinner in our family. At age 18, a new wife and mother, I hosted the first Christmas dinner on December 24, 1991. The responsibility was previously held by my grandmother who hosted her first at age 27. Keeping in line with the changes in our families' construct, I have traded some of the traditional Southern fare for more multi-ethnic, exotic, eco and cardio friendly delights. (I can burn now.)

2. Santa does not wrap presents here. Instead he opens them and plays with them all over the family room. The children awaken to Christmas already in progress. As a child, my Barbie's were often posed on new bike pedals, in plants or as players alongside new board games! Santa was/is exceptionally creative!

Yes, those are Mr. Potato Head's yellow glasses.Yael wore them frequently in 2001-2002.

3. In over two decades of peeking, shaking and fondling wrapped presents, the only thing I ever actually figured out was a navel ring Favorite Guy hung in the tree during Christmas of 1994.

4. Every Christmas has a color scheme theme, down to the wrapping paper. It helps keep me sane amongst the insanity of the season.

5. My favorite Christmas songs are Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, Gloria in excelsis Deo, Happy Christmas (War is Over), Baby It's Cold Outside...although, that one is a bit..er um-secular! I'm partial to the Ray Charles and Betty Carter Version-it's sexy!

This was FUN! I'm not going to interrupt any one's baking or last minute shopping by tagging. If you are so inclined to play along, have at it and, let me know where to find you. Happy holidays.

Peace

A "T" Party

They're Invited!

Occasion: An ass kicking
When: Soon come
Where: The Playground
Menu: knuckle sandwiches and chicken wings

To date, in seventeen plus years of motherhood, I still can not get my head around what to do about mean children. Once again, Yael has come running through the house bawling inconsolably over the antics of L'il Nellie Olsen and the Dustmuffins. This time the "T for Terror" threat was heightened as she was accompanied by not one, but two other bawling victims of playground persecution. I'm helpless and heartbroken and, a bit obsessed with fantasies of doling knuckle sandwiches and chicken wings on a playground full of screaming children. I kid, but only a little.

I have a button/badge on my workspace cork board which reads, "girl hate is not cool." I bought it some time ago. As soon as I saw it I was immediately reminded of those many years of wearing the wrong, insert anything, absolutely anything and becoming a victim, now it's my daughter's turn. Childhood, especially at a mere 9 years old, should be simpler.

I think what bothers me most is knowing there are other parents who take this lightly. Knowing there are people who dismiss verbally and emotionally abusive children as just, "kids being kids" as an excuse for not being responsible parents. Their ignorance is inexcusable at this day and age when just about everyone has known, witnessed, heard of at least one horrific tale of bullying. Shame on them.

So here we are again, Favorite Guy and I engaging in the self-esteem restoration, reassurance and reprogramming routine. And, I'm treating myself as well. While I may not know what to do, the fact that I am in my cozy kitchen posting this versus the Maricopa County Women's prison, one can deduce that I know what not to do, and that is equally as important. Laughs. We're baking Christmas cookies, watching silly movies and reminding our perfectly imperfect princess that mean people suck!

Peace

Shutter Click & Chat 12/21

Excitedly rubs palms. I'm back! Well, almost...I still sound a tad Lily Tomlin-ish, sans snort. I'm also slow on the uptake from a germ hangover but, other than that, I'm ready to go. So let's go!

This year we are going Greek for the Christmas menu: taramosalata, kotopoulo fourno, spanakopita, moussaka and maronhinos! I'm born and raised (a whole 3 decades) in Astoria, Queens-home to the largest Greek populace in all of New York. I think I can pull this off! Stay tuned. (There's always the minutiae, like the fact that I live in AZ which isn't exactly the mecca of ethnic spice and grocers.) Let's not kill my happy haze, the Favorite Guy and I are on a mission as soon as the sun rises; Mapquest and shades, we're bringing Greece to Goodyear!

And now on to Shutter Click & Chat business- (Really quickly since I'm already all over the place. I'm beginning to experience some brain strain as far as topics are concerned, so if you guys have any ideas-throw them out there-it'd be most appreciated.)

My sweet Biju is always under the tree and up to no good. Edna takes her place atop this year's silver tree. Our makeshift mantel. Smiles and winks Charmaine. Some of the Christmas booty, the stuff in the polka dot kraft paper is mine, from the favorite guy. Yay! I shook them, smelled them and, fondled them shamelessly. My best guesses are; a book/magazine (Somerset Studio), butter cookies in a tin on top of something heavy in a box and, something really heavy in a rectangular box. A hammer?! Laughs.

The next time we meet for Shutter Click & Chat, it'll be our last round for 2008! We've got to go out with a bang-or just a really good shot! It's up to you, just make it awesome!

Shutter Click & Chat 12/28: Awesome! Show me something end of the year awesome!

I Surrender

Damn you, cooties! It has been three days of tea, soup, really bad television-(I watched all of my Netflix selections on the same day-for shame!), sleep, tea, soup...Did I mention tea? Oh! And soup. My head is in a foggy Nyquil-induced haze, or so I think. It is quite possible that I've blown my entire cerebral cortex through my right nostril. And, for the love of Bob, I never knew how uncomfortable just a few added degrees of body temperature could be. After a day or so of wallowing about in my own contaminated clamminess I opted for a shower-the water HURT! It felt like hail!

Next year, I will have a flu shot or two, hell maybe three. I'm too old for this shit! I surrender. Waves infinite roll of snot-tinged toilet paper. I need a pardon, I have presents to wrap (and shake-I must make my Christmas booty predictions) and laundry to fold and, YIKES! a party to obsess over...

I hope all of you are feeling fab. I'm slowly making my way through the blogosphere, have your hand sanitizer ready, I'm coming through...

Peace

I got 'em!

I knew it was imminent. First the general feeling of "blah" followed by fiery nostrils, a dry and unbearably funky tasting mouth, scratchy throat and now fever. It's here, time for tea and soup.

Peace

Zine stuff...

Zines by: Christine Hamm, Aijung Kim and Katie Haegele.

I think-Rolls eyes precariously, I'm ready to begin formatting and editing. It just sort of feels right. I have a sense of which pieces of art I'll use and a general idea for a layout, so perhaps...just maybe, I'm in business- sort of.

This project is really about forging a more amicable existence between my creative and intellectual self. The two don't always coincide. Much to my dismay the relationship is oft-times cannibalistic. Does anyone else experience this? It's as if the right balance is unattainable or arduously so, and usually at the expense of an important piece of the whole. Damned be the crazy complexities inside my head! Laughs.

I've been quite a zine fiend over the past few months, getting a feel for not so much what zines are about but, moreover who zinesters are. Just who are these underground writers? It has been quite an interesting mix. Some have been eerily familiar, like having a conversation with myself. The readings have sparked feelings of comforting warmth, wide-eyed stares and throbbing pangs from a brain teeming with, "now why didn't I think of that firsts". I think I'm hooked.

So um yeah, that's where I am. Unless I flop back into brooding thinker mode, I'll be working on zine construction over the next couple of weeks, months or so. And you? Anything new and exciting on the horizon?

Peace

(Raises fist. Grr Blogger-for those of you who were here in the early hours, you know what I mean...)

Shutter Click & Chat 12/14

Trees are Earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.

Rabindranath Tagore

These two young trees are just outside of our front door, and yet I have repeatedly failed to notice their beauty until today. I stepped out just before sundown to call Yael in for dinner (The tiny figure in the playground is her.) and there they were. Well, here they are. Have you any trees to share?

Shutter Click & Chat 12/21 Sights of the season.

Recognizing that we aren't all gearing up for Christmas, I've left this one celebratory generic. Show me something wintry, Christmas-y, Hannukah-y, Solstice-y and more, just share a symbol of the season as you see fit.

Peace

God Grew Tired of Us 2006

It's been several days and I'm still feeling sluggish. The anxiety has taken a toll on my immune system as well. There's a general feeling of malaise that I'm trying to work through whilst conducting my everyday duties and making my way to the days of sparkle and glee.

Today was hair day for the children, so I carved out a few hours and a spot on the sofa for cornrows and cinema.

We watched God Grew Tired of Us; the deeply moving account of the journey of the Sudanese "Lost Boys". The documentary follows a group of young boys and eventual men as they flee Sudan's civil war and unrest.

First, they make their way 1000 miles through the desert from Sudan to Kenya, surviving on hope and little else. The men survive conditions so deplorable that one, John, recounts believing they were doomed to a life of suffering because "God grew tired of [them]".

When they arrive at the refugee camp, they find safety and companionship among other child refugees, but food is scarce and many, if not all, have been orphaned. Finally, the US steps in to relocate many of the older "Lost Boys" to 23 states in the nation. They are given housing and 3 months of government assistance; during which time they must find gainful employment and become self sufficient.

The film follows four of the Sudanese men over the course of 3 years as they settle into their new lives in Syracuse, NY and Pittsburgh PA. It is during this time in the film when my suspicions, regarding the inherent richness of cultural identity, were confirmed. While grateful for the opportunities they've been given in the US, the men will soon realize just how much they've lost along the way. God Grew Tired of Us is available on Netflix.

Peace

That's so cool!

This is my new favorite commercial! It has restored my waning faith in the tube's worth. I haven't seen a PSA for character building in a long time. Lucky for me-and moreover those with whom Favorite Guy and I have gifted chromosomes, "That's so gay" and other forms of hate and intolerance speech have not found their way into our home. We're kinda cool like that!

This is quite an ingenious tool for addressing the issues surrounding diversity, awareness and the power of words. If you know someone who needs a tact and tolerance refresher course, please share this message.

Peace

The Scoop

So, Friday December 5th after much preparation, trepidation and consumption of antacids, I set out- in comfortable shoes and accompanied by the way more personable Favorite Guy, on my first craft fair adventure. It was great!

The event was well organized. Yay for organization because, slipshod planning makes me all sorts of anxious and angry. I was in good company, Etsy neighbors to the far left, immediate and far right of me. Yay Etsians! And, a host of stylish patrons with soothing, peaceful energy. There was one duo of diabolical seniors; clawing haphazardly at my wares, never acknowledging my presence or my fake but, warm greeting. I employed my magical anti-curmudgeon empathic powers (To the untrained eye this looks like a sideways glance and a clenched jaw.) and, they scurried away. Favorite Guy and I shared a giggle and soon after their presence was awash by a new group of pleasantly peaceful patrons.

The standout, take home, big deal of the day was how well my work was received. The only caveat of internet sales is the sterile relationship between the artist and the wearer/buyer of your work. It was so interesting and inspiring to sit back, watch and listen to the reviews and reviewers of my work. This is so refreshing for someone like me, who relies so heavily on observation, rhythms and energy. My customers were teens, tweens, moms and grandmothers. They were gay, straight, alone and in groups, lovers and friends, coworkers and others. And they were all gettin' Pretty in Peace. Now that is just awe inspiring, and certainly an incentive to continue doing what I do.

There were no mishaps. I know, I'm shocked as well. Generally, where there is Tameka and a party of more than four humans, there is a heightened threat of terror and turmoil, but not here. In fact, the event host and owner of Frances Vintage came by at the end to tell me of the rave reviews she'd heard about me and my work. She in turn, took more inventory for her shop. All. Good. Things.

Is this the beginning of a new junket into the craft fairs circuit? Absolutely not. While I'm grateful for the success of the overall experience, the end doesn't justify the means. Much like the visionary behind the vision, Pretty in Peace is at its prettiest in peace. That means, right here in the kitchen, with the cats, drinking coffee and listening to the familiar sounds of home.

PS. Monday morning, while still in a state of recovery I received an e-mail from Minerva O. My Bourdon bracelet was featured in the Spinning Wheel blog on AZCentral! More. Good. Things.

Sorry there weren't more pictures of the set-up in detail. By the time I remembered I even had a blog it was too late! Not my preferred pace, that's for sure. Oh yeah...and I'm not sure if I'm back yet...this is kinda Michael Jordan-ish of me, I know. But, I wanted to post The Scoop. Winks.

Peace

Dear Friends...

Hello my wonderful blog friends! I hope you're all doing well. I'm doing wonderfully however, the pace of the past few days' events (Crafeteria, holiday shopping, closing and then reopening my Etsy shop) have me running on empty and, at an emotionally unhealthy pace. I think I've seen and come in contact with more people and places and energies in the past four days than I have cumulatively over the past six months-major sensory overload. So, that's why I haven't been making my way around to visit all of you! Deep breath. My focus today is to sort through the rest of the weeks obligations, align myself, stretch, meditate and resume some semblance of normalcy. Once I reach optimum sparkle, I shall bestow my presence and all of the Crafeteria details upon you, all of you. Deal? Peace.

Shutter Click & Chat 12/7

Winter

"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories”-Unknown

I should have known yesterday when the temperatures in Arizona reached the mid 70s that capturing any current images of winter might prove futile. I was forced into the archives.

This is a shot of the Favorite Guy, Jordan and Yael taken in 2003 It was unknown then but, this would be our last snowfall for some time. We've booked a hotel up north with hopes of catching some snowfall this winter!

And yours? Show me your winter wonderful!

Shutter Click & Chat 12/14 Trees:

Let's look at trees. Christmas trees or not, trimmed or not-just trees. We have lots of those around here. Winks.

Peace

She's gone...

Alas, I can get down from this shelf and breathe some fresh air. It's just us; dolls and pets. The cats are in the Christmas tree. Lupe is asleep as usual, at least she won't tell on us. The guinea pig is the one to watch, he's a bit of a whistle blower. He and the girl; luckily she isn't here either.

The lady won't be back until late. She did mention however, something about a bracelet, a winner and blogger, Demandablueblog. If I were her, I'd e-mail the lady with her snail mail address. That bracelet's pretty rad and, over 20 other folks really wanted it!

Congratulations! Demandablueblog!

See (Insert Child's Name) Draw!

Yael Rose, age 9

Among other projects, we always start the fresh year of home school with a NEW! self portrait. Currently stored under the sofa in a giant posterboard envelope are our self portraits and other random acts of creativity. There is far more room in my heart for these projects than on our walls. You can imagine how thrilled I was to find out about this awesome giveaway hosted by See Jack Draw . A collage like the one shown below, of your child/ren's artwork is being offered for FREE! And guess what else? They're Etsy neighbors. Stop by and say, "Hi".

Now, what would we do without Yvonne of Rest of Yesterday? She always has her finger on the pulse of what's fun and new. As a matter of acutely embarrassing fact, I'm humming to Polite Dance Song as I post this entry, and the video is all sorts of hilarious. Thanks, Yvonne!

Now hurry up, the contest ends at midnight PST on Sunday December 7th. Have a go at it. Enter here. Good luck.

Peace

The Power of One

It's been a busy few days; Crafeteria III, the Perzine project- I'm almost proud of myself. Keeping in mind that, pride yields an interesting dichotomy. I was tagging the last of my items, pinning my table covering and thinking, "This all began on a whim, with a wire, a twist and a wish. Whether I sell all or none-I'm there. I've been. All because I dared. I tried". The power of one thought.

Switch gears- this morning I'm typing...I know I said I'd write, but this idea came to me mid- morning haze and, it would slip if I tried to get it out in manuscript. I'm on a roll. I'm in the moment; right back in the action. I can smell the trees and hear the voices. I can feel the flood of emotions hit. Oh. They hit hard. The emotions. The memories. I've been there. I closed my eyes, tightly. I closed the window. The power of one thought.

It really got me thinking about the power of one. One thought. One wish. One day. One more. One. The one drink that makes you drunk. The one stroke that makes you quiver. The one person you love, the one you lost, the one you wish would get lost. Powerful huh? I'm going to sit on this for a while before I go back to my writing, but I wanted to share.

Peace.

Zoom...

A song dug from the old grey crate, in the dark, on a whim, last night.

I think it was fate. Enjoy.

Peace

Overjet, Malocclusion and Diastema

Wow! Well that was once me; a bucktoothed gal with a gap; playground agent codename: "Bucky Beaver". It was hardly as original as it was annoying. Trust my use of expletives and accompanying gestures were honed fairly early on! I called my mom and asked her to mail some pre-cosmetic dentistry photos. She isn't generally cooperative, so we shall see.

I found this delightful little shop, Busy Beaver Press and these Twig pencils while e-traipsing through Etsy for a treat. I have on many occasions been known to engage in retail therapy. This therapeutic shopping usually takes place just before a new endeavor and/or the subsequent adventure.

I purchased these pencils a few weeks ago when I decided I'd get back to writing. There's a vulnerability and penetration of thought that just doesn't come across the same on a keyboard as it does with a pencil. Perhaps, writing; the physical act of seamless scrawling, awakens my inner buck-toothed child. If this proves true this project will be an adventurous endeavor indeed.

Peace

Crafeteria III-Yikes!

Just four days remain until my craft fair debut and your last days to enter the Peace 2008 bracelet giveaway! I'm equal parts excited, eager, and anxious. Did I mention exhausted? I was certainly bred for smart work not hard work. I'm sure I mentioned how quickly I become disillusioned once the conceptual tasks have been completed. I'm so over making shit, I could just scream!

I have been able to counteract some of the monotonous mechanics by incorporating creative display ideas along the way. All of which are easily transitioned to meet my workspace storage needs. I don't think I'll be making a regular run of craft fairs, but there's certainly never enough pretty in the workspace.

Here is what became of my pillow making debut, shipping tags, velvet ribbon, and some lovely stick pins (my favorite part of sewing) I scored at Jo-Ann lately; a hair jewelry display.

As this venture quickly comes to a close, I can only hope it's successful enough to afford me an opportunity to shift gears and devote my energies towards completing my first perzine. Yes, that much has been finalized; it will undoubtedly be a perzine. Swollen, calloused fingers crossed.

Peace