At a marriage workshop, the speaker remarks that many couples are so disconnected that 85 per cent of husbands do not know what their wives’ favourite flower is. One man turns to his wife and whispers, “It’s self-raising, right?”
Beauty of the Day
Postcards:: day four
This is just one of many gorgeous views Jeff snapped from the highest peak of the San Jacinto mountains. It was a dream for him to be able to plan, look forward and climb that summit. The way he talked about it almost had me convinced to overcome my height squeamishness and tram up for a look myself....but in my generosity, I decided to let him keep that joy all to himself.
Yesterday my crafty friends made mustaches out of my braids. So clever those two. This is Annabel on the left and Heather on the right. Jeff just took this one with my phone, but Alessandra was also snapping away, so I'm looking forward to seeing more of those. Such sweet girls.
Today is the first day on my own, now that Jeff is back home with the kids. Alissa picked me up in Palm Springs this morning and brought me to L.A.- Beverly Hills to be exact- what? I know- so weird. Not a place I ever thought that quilt talks and sewing would ever bring me (our kind are everywhere!), but so far it has been an interesting experience. I know that they make all the movies here, but I didn't expect that every single billboard would be plastered with movie this and movie that. I did expect palm trees galore, glass houses in the hills, and cars that cost more than my house- so that much hasn't been a surprise. Tomorrow I am teaching a workshop at Sew Modern, and then speaking to the LA Modern Quilt Guild tomorrow evening, and I'm really excited to do both.
And now that I've caught up on Downton Abbey online, I can call it a night.
xoAM
Sexy man?
While driving home from a party the wife asks her husband, “Honey, has anyone ever told you how handsome, sexy, and irresistible you are to women?”
The flattered husband laughed and says, “No dear, they haven’t”
“Then what the heck gave you that idea at the party?”
Beauty of the Day
Gone Fishing
A man gets up early, dresses quietly, goes into the garage, hooks up to his pickup, and sets off to go fishing, only to find the weather has changed into a torrential downpour with a 50 km/ h wind. He turns on the radio and hears a report predicting more bad weather for the rest of the day. He goes back into the house, quietly undress, skips back into bed and cuddles up to his wife and, now with a different anticipation, whispers ,”the weather out there is terrible”.
”I know,” his wife replies, “can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?”
Beauty of the Day
Postcards:: day two
After having mostly set up and making introductions last night, we got to lots and lots of sewing today. All the women participating brought along really really great projects to work on, along with extremely inspiring attitudes about wanting to learn new things. A really lovely bunch this one. But if the sewing was in the least bit taxing.....
One could walk just a few feet outdoors and sit by the pool. I was not taxed, but rather had a break with a swim, a delicious jicama salad, and some embroidery. Followed by some wonderful conversation with an FBI agent. Who is one of our gorgeous weekend students. I know, right? I am secretly very jealous of her profession. I fancy myself an unofficial (but could have been a really good one) crime fighter. Really truly would have been a second career choice. Ha. I love remembering things about myself that I forgot.
And this edible distraction, was quite cared for by her mommy (Heather), daddy, and uncle who all took turns shading her with a towel for a poolside nap. Ah to have such abandon.
My honey took a hike. Like all the way up the highest peek outside Palm Springs. After he had been gone for about 10 hours, I got a text with a phrase that resembled: "lots of snow and wind, almost got blown into the Pacific".......(pause, pause) and I got like nothing more for at least 30 minutes. But he made it back and snoozing away. An entirely different sort of challenge than my day. But so good for both of us.
xoAnna
Marry on your own time
Mary: “I used to hate weddings; all the elderly ladies would prod me and say, ‘You’ll be next’.”
Jane: “And now?”
Mary: “They stopped when I started saying it to them at funerals.”
Beauty of the Day
Postcards:: day one
Once we got to Dallas from Nashville, I was pretty sure we were headed to the right gate when we saw this skirt. The lovely Jane who was also traveling to my workshop with Heather and Denyse in Palm Springs gave herself away with that patchwork love. So pretty. I also sat next to Debra on the flight and got to have some nice chats between snoozing and stitching. (omg! and little Jackie Ivancho was on our flight with what looked like her brother, mom, and puppy!)
This is the view outside of our room at the Ace Hotel. I want my money back though. There's no turntable in here. (If you've ever stayed at any Ace Hotel, you will so love that link.) What is standard issue here at the Palm Springs Ace: caftans. In every room. I fell so ridiculously in love with them last year that Heather sent me one as a gift afterwards. I can't wear it without Jeff saying something stupid. But I don't care. I know he loves it.
This is my favorite view currently. Getting watch my husband take a break for a bit. With me. Tonight we'll have a meet and greet with workshoppers, dinner then get right to sewing for a few hours until late. It already feels late to me, trying to stay awake for this timezone is a challenge!
Be back tomorrow, wish you were here, Anna Maria xoxox
20
Just one more piece of nostalgia this month, as my first born just turned 20 a few moments ago. This is a mutually favorite photo between the 3 of us who were present when it was taken- Jeff, our photographer. Juliana was just a little over one and we were visiting friends in Sarasota, after having left the Ringling School to come home and become a family. Its nice now to think that I had attended school there to make art, but this is my favorite piece. Happy Birthday Juliana! I wish we were together.
Hey peoples, want to come to California? I leave first thing in the morning for Palm Springs, LA, and Sacramento. I thought I would send some postcards along the way to share the trip with you.....
But first I should get to bed, more soon! xo,AM
Postcard from Nicolas
While I am not especially good at chronicling photos or artwork into albums or folders of and for my family there are certain scraps and bits of things that I hang onto. Not for any certain reason other than they feel especially poignant. And I am most certainly not great at organizing them, but they just get tucked here and there. I was cleaning out my closet on Saturday (just typing that doesn't quite cover how much that actually required of me). In the process this little card floated on the air down from the very top. A handwritten index card from a 6yr old Nicolas. Translated from his lovely phonetic spelling it reads:
Whenever Juliana isn't here I will be there if you fall down.
Nicolas turned 14 yesterday. I am so happy to have this postcard from his inner heart, his child heart. He was and is a gorgeous boy. Such a treasure to watch the rest as it unfolds. (And in my mind I can still hear little-him whispering words out loud very carefully in order to spell his writings.)
Hope you had a good weekend- its so sunny here today. xoA
Painting Party
So I'm a little proud of this, when you consider birthday cake situations I have suffered in the past. (But thankfully barely recovered from.) My sweet Eleni turns 8 today. Pffufff. The time. She do pass us by. Eleni has invited a pair of friends to come home on the bus with her today. And together with her sister we're going to have a painting party. It was Isabela's (secret) idea to make Eleni a paint palette cake. Genius. Thank you Isabela. Talk about an easy design to execute! I did get a little fancy with her name on the side of the cake, but I was staring down at a plate full of beautifully colorful paints, erhhh icing plops. I had to do something besides eat them. So I painted on the side with a butter knife. And with "painterly" as the theme, I allowed myself not to worry about perfection. One helpful tip: etching her name in the white frosting with a toothpick first. Anyway, I think now I need to buy pretzel rods and black licorice strings so that I can maybe fashion a paintbrush (dipped in a icing color of course).
Now that Eleni is 8, we also decided it was high time she begin her fabric designing career. She drew out the design with markers (I had no idea she actually wanted birthday fabric, but how sweet). We scanned it, I redrew it digitally, as close to her hand as possible, and we sent to it Spoonflower. Thanks Spoonfower. Anyway. After the girls do some painting today everyone is going to make their own personal homemade pizzas. So I am thinking I will whip up some little aprons out of the fabric for them, so they'll all have a party favor to keep and remember the fun.
Better get to it.
Please don't be impressed.
Eleni asked for her own fabric for her 7th birthday.
Yea.
And I ate the colorful icing plops too.
I am afraid to look at the color of my mouth right now.
Over and out.
And Happy Birthday to my beautiful girl.
xoxo,Anna
Needleworks (in the works)
I've been writing this blog post in my mind for a few months now. This fall will see the publication of my 3rd book title, Anna Maria's Needleworks Notebook. I've casually mentioned it here and there, mostly in other interviews, in some talks I've given, in some conversations and so forth, but its time to talk about it a bit more officially, I imagine,- especially in the string of what I'm looking forward to this year. Because I am really, really, really thrilled with this upcoming book. It is so different than the other two, I think entirely in a good way. Just like hand work is different than sewing machine work- that sort of difference.
This book has come about very slowly, I sort of had half the projects designed before I even knew how I wanted to present them. The idea of a book about 18 months ago, just made me sleepy. Not bored, I was just all too aware of that process and how you live it eat it breathe it until its complete. And I guess I just didn't feel willing, as gratifying as it can be. But then as I logged stitching hours (crewel, embroidery, cross stitch, needlepoint, hand quilting and so on), jotted notes, made drawings, and dreamed of ideas.... the format of a book, a different sort, just came about. It made the most sense, as long as I could dictate the styling be a little different here and there, I felt I could make it just right. And my gracious publisher, was very willing. Which entirely surprised me. I don't know why, I guess I just thought that the style of books I have written already is such a fixture now that it has become the only way to do it. And I piled onto myself the obligation to suddenly become the official authority on all forms of needlework to qualify me for the task. So silly. That is already available, if that's what you want. So my collection is a personal one of favorite things to do with thread, needle and cloth. Designed by me, sometimes embracing, sometimes ignoring, but always adoring tradition (sorta like how you treat your family).
It will be physically different than the other two - maybe more relaxed, maybe more inspirational, slightly more free-form, but still loaded with projects. And how its going now, the writing and the sewing that is, the book is feeling like my friend already, my companion, my journal, following along in process. I didn't quite feel like that with the others, maybe because this one has been a slow, careful realization. Again maybe just echoing a different type of work than more technical sewing. In the end, the finished work, I hope, is just that- a record of ideas and inspirations, that comes from a very personal place that I'm hoping you can relate to, respond to with your own work, and enjoy for a very long time.
How's that for verbose?
Thanks for reading all that. I'm sorry if you're more confused about anything than you were about 4 minutes ago.
More soon, xoox, Anna
Be Careful For Blind Dates
A girl wanted a boyfriend. Her mom wanted to help her, so she set up a blind date for her daughter.
When the girl got back from the date she said "That was the worst night of my life!"
"Why is that?" her mom asked.
"He owns a 1922 Rolls Royce!"
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"He's the original owner mom!"
Beauty of the Day
How It Went
We tucked in on Friday, side by side, upstairs, busy. Quiet, working, drawing, laughing, ignoring, talking, singing. Then snow. Tiny at first. Then huge. She said we should take photographs. I rolled my eyes. But then she put on makeup. I got my coat. Froze my fingers. Click. After. Click.
These pictures document the last of her dark hair for the now. She spent Friday evening trying to go blonde. Then I stayed up with her until almost 3am, helping her go blonder. Then she kissed me goodbye only hours later (her head, a little brassy) while Jeff warmed up the car. I slouched on the couch with Roman. And I was fine.
Saturday. Fine.
Sunday. Fine.
This morning, I headed to her room to ask her to
go out and buy some milk and juice for me becau........OH. Not here. Right.
So I texted instead.
She couldn't go get the milk and juice right away.
She's in Brooklyn.
And then I looked at these pictures for about an hour.
It was a good idea, as it turns out, to take them.
She has a few more here.
xoAM
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