Yes, I Am Very Very Late. But I'm Gonna Give You Stuff, Maybe.

I am lame and sometimes disappear, but this time I come back bearing gifts. So, I said I was going to do a giveaway, and then SOMEHOW the prize did not make itself (lame!), and SOMEHOW the photos did not take themselves (double lame!), and SOMEHOW I did not write the post. It's all very unfortunate.

But the time has come, and I have THINGS for you to WIN! In honor of having 1000+ etsy sales*, I am giving away this little drawstring pouch, made with my new ASL fabric, and it comes with a delightful stash of  Aunt June scraps to boot! (I love saying "to boot". So Canadian, so hilarious. Eh?)

I made the pouch from this AMAZING tutorial written by Jeni of In Color Order. I've made four of them already, that is how delightful they are to make- super sturdy and really satisfying to pull closed- unlike most drawstring bags, they actually STAY tightly closed without having to tie any knots!

Anywayyyyyys, This IS a giveaway post, so I suppose I should tell you how you can win Zee Prize... To continue my tradition of ridiculous entry requirements, leave a comment on this post in the form of a haiku. It's WAY easier than limericks, and you really put out some fabulous limericks in the last giveaway. If you need a refresher, a haiku is a traditional Japanese poem that consists of 17 syllables, in three lines that follow the pattern of 5 syllables, 7 syllables, and 5 syllables again. Sometimes they're very deep and meaningful, but usually not when I write them. (When I write them, they tend to be about things like farts. I am classy.)


So! Haiku onward! I shall draw the winner on Monday, and contact them via email. In order to allow me to do this, PLEASE make sure that your email is entered in when you make a comment, otherwise I get a no-reply email address, which makes me sad, and you sad, and the world cries. SO, in your blogger account, go to your dashboard> edit profile> and click "show my email address". The world sighs in relief!


*By the way, do not be very impressed by this. Most of the sales are from the calendar, which, while I love it dearly, makes approximately $3.25 per sale. Which is AWESOME, and I am super fortunate for all the sales, but to be sure: I am not rolling about in my giant pile of etsy moneys. Do not be impressed.

New Fabric, What? The Visual English Alphabet.

Ok, so this fabric has been in the works forrrrrrrEVER. Gestation period of an elephant, folks. Back story, commence!

When I was a kid, I saved up for months to buy an ASL (American Sign Language) Dictionary. I had this idea that I would buy it, become fluent, and be super-awesome. I had a lot of these scenarios in my head when I was a kid, and I don't know where some of them came from. Weaving Kente-cloth! Making pottery out of mud! Learning Egyptian hieroglyphs! I was weird and dorky, and spent a lot of time alone in my room, none of which I regret.

But, back to the story- I learned to fingerspell, (or the ASL alphabet, or Visual English) and would do it when I got bored, secretly spelling the words  being spoken to me as fast as I could. I'm sure I was sloppy, and most likely wrong, but as it was never actually used as communication, it didn't make much of a difference.

As far as signing actual words, though, I didn't get very far. Firstly because I am INFINITELY better at starting things than following through with them, and secondly because I didn't actually know anyone who used ASL. Learning a language is difficult enough, but becomes exponentially more so when you only have yourself to "talk" to. Muscle memory (like they say, riding a bike), is powerful, though- so the alphabet stuck with me.

So over a year ago, I drew out this ASL alphabet, scanned it, and then abandoned it. I was working other more "pressing" designs, and so it sat. But when I decided to have some fabric screenprinted for the etsy shop, I knew that this was the design to start with. I love the many different hands, the subtlety and gracefulness of the gestures and how they play together. They communicate; they are a sign, they point to meaning. (But they don't spell anything. I checked: gotta be careful with random letter placement.

 So here it is, my first foray into the world of screenprinted textiles! I'm kinda partial to them, so I hope you dig them, too. Info, including size and care instructions is located on the etsy listings. Six colors are available, though the supply of some colors is fast dwindling. The prints were hand screenprinted right here in scenic Kansas City by Printosaurus, fine folks as well as fine printers. Check 'em out.

Red Orange

Orange

Yellow

Pea Green

Blue

Slate

And in other news, I am currently sitting at 999 etsy sales, which means it smells like giveaway time. The 1000th (non-calendar) customer will be getting a little something extra, and tomorrow (or thereabouts) I'll be giving away a cute little something I've whipped up here on ye olde blogge! (Yeah, that's how medieval villagers spelled blog. I dare you to find evidence to prove me wrong.)

So, I Do This Thing... (Also, Again, Sale!)

I have been living under the illusion that I had posted about this before, but I guess I hadn't. Turns out, I have written MANY posts in my head that never manage to crawl out of my head onto the interwebs, and have been blissfully unaware of their non-existence. Whatevs.

But anyways, this one is cool (I think) and REALLY overdue. So, in August 2010, I opened a second etsy store, And Your Name Is? which I briefly alluded to here, and the Lovely and Talented Shea Henderson of Empty Bobbin Sewing Studio mentioned here. (HYPERLINK ATTACK!)

And Your Name Is? is an outgrowth of my fabric-design-love: I make custom text-based patterns in several different styles. Over the past year and a half, I have really enjoyed creating the individual styles, and seeing how they become even more unique when combined with different names! I also make custom tote bags, the purchase of which also gets you the digital files to use.

I've also done these designs for businesses, since the graphics can easily be modified into logos. As I move forward with it, I am excited to explore different possibilities- creating customized repeat designs for events like weddings, graduations, etc...

So, in honor of the "coming out" of the shop, I am going to do a bit of a sale! I know, I've been Saley McSalerson lately... Have I mentioned that my Mac is on it's death-bed? Pity, folks.

In any case, I am going to be offering my services, usually $50, at the BARGAIN BASEMENT rate of $42.50. (That's 15% off, I think? I don't want to have to take my shoes off, so we'll say it's 15%.) A lot of work (and lurrrrve) goes into these designs, kiddoes, so it's a pretty good deal.

I'll put the deets (hilarious abbreviations!) of what you get at the bottom of the post- you pretty much get all the files that you would need to make everything you would ever want with the pattern- fabric (obvs,) scrapbooking paper, iPhone cases, laptop skins, and even shoes. You have unlimited personal use of your custom pattern, so get one for the kids and you can use it for the next 40 years or so... think of it as a post-modern family crest.

All this salesmanship is making me a little itchy, but I'm a big fan of this project, and think it's a pretty great way to make customized keepsakes. But, ya know, I'm probably biased. Have I told, you lately, that I love you? (I sang that last part. IRL.)

Info-rama!
Every pattern is hand drawn by me, scanned and put into a seamless repeat, giving it endless possibilities for digital use! Because I hand draw all my designs, they are completely unique- these are not files that can be smacked together with standard fonts, they are individualized works of art!

This listing is for a digital file featuring your name, set up to be used as a seamless repeat, perfect for fabric, scrap booking, and other crafty uses; It does NOT include any of the physical products shown in the photos, those are suggested uses of the digital file. If you purchase this listing, you will receive:

-A digital file, in three of your chosen color combination choices, in your choice of
.jpg, .tif, or .png format.
-The pattern in a format ready to be uploaded to the Spoonflower.com marketplace, where you can purchase it on a variety of different fabric types.
-A 16"x16" 300dpi .png file of each pattern in repeat
-An 8"x8" 300 dpi .jpg file of each pattern in repeat
-An 8.5x11" 300 dpi .pdf file of each pattern in repeat
-An email detailing ways to use the files for different applications.
-Unlimited use and rights to your custom design, even for commercial purposes!

You can optionally purchase additional color combination choices for $2 a color, as well as add additional names to a fabric (middle names or surnames) for $10 per name.

GO FORTH! BROWSE! PURCHASE? NO PRESSURE!

Public Service Announcement: Nature! Who Knew? (Everyone, Probably.)

When people are all like, man, nature is cool, I think, yes, it is pretty cool. And maybe I get a mental picture of a mountain or a canyon or a rainbow, all of which are great. But, while they are great, and pretty, and would happily go on trips to see them, I do not get psyched about mountains or canyons or rainbows. I think I've been desensitized by the thousands of photographs I've seen of these things, which is awful, but, it is what it is.  I blame Successories.

In fourth grade, there was an issue of Weekly Reader* that I have still never forgotten, the subject of which was the Mariana Trench and the Things Down There. At that point, we knew a lot less about it, but it was still pretty mind blowing-stuff. I'm interested in the Highest Things (I will read or watch anything that has to do with Mount Everest; ask my husband; ask my Netflix queue), but the Lowest Things are really where it's at. Mystery! Depth! Things we shouldn't be seeing and will never see all of! It is awe-inspring in a way that even the best rainbow will never be. 

 It's like a whole ecosystem that was pulled directly from the nightmares of kindergarteners, and it is HAMAZING. If you haven't watched the BBC series Blue Planet, you really should do yourself a favor and at least watch Episode 2, "The Deep".  It's available on Netflix streaming, so you really have no excuse not to. Unless you don't have Netflix streaming, which, you should. Drop cable, pick up Netflix, save yourself a ton of money and forget what commercials are. It's awesome.

Screenshot stolen from Claire Nouvian's website. Please visit it, so I don't feel so guilty.

And, m'kay, check out this book, The Deep by Claire Nouvian, and take a gander at the gallery on her website. These photos are not only really incredible, but also completely terrifying. Try to ignore the completely obnoxious (and creepy) deep-sea sounds the site plays... I thought my computer was finally surrendering to the great beyond until I realized it was the site. Auto-playing sounds and music on websites! When will you be outlawed? Congress, please get on that.

Sadly, I have no interest whatsoever in donning SCUBA gear, as I would surely manage to die in the stupidest possible way, possibly 8 feet underwater. Thus, I am destined to experience ocean life in 2D for the most part. I have a hankering to go into as many caves as possible though, so I should maybe get a jump on that. Anyone want to teach me how to spelunk?


*I loved Weekly Reader. Like, I can still smell the ink and feel its cheap, pulpy newsprint texture. It was a MAGAZINE, that school BOUGHT us, and all we had to do was a few lame fill-in-the-blanks! I desperately hated making a mistake though, because if you had to erase, the surrounding print would  come off and no matter how gentle you tried to be, you would shred the paper. Oh, the blemished and torn Weekly Reader, oh, the ire and shame!


PS: Thanks for all the support on the 2012 agenda; I'm glad I'm not the only dirty hermit in blogland. Also, will make sincerest effort to blog with greater frequency- have a few projects nearly completed that I will be blathering on about in the most excited way. Also, thank you for reading the blather in the first place, let alone being willing to read more!

Ringing It In, I Guess?

Ohhh, new year. You make us bloggy-types so REFLECTIVE. I almost begin to think my thoughts are poignant, but I am not entirely fooled.

I am going to summarize, though. Just a bit. 2011, you were a bit of a mess for me. Like, a mess that turned out to be a really good thing, but still a mess. I was all runny and soppy and ridiculous in the beginning, and then everything turned around and the me-goo solidified, and the process of re-sculpting began. God works in mysterious ways, friends. Sometimes he uses prescription drugs (amen!), frequently he uses people you wouldn't expect, and always he uses his Spirit, without which I am SOL.

So, 2012, I am starting you off with LISTS. I love lists, but I like to keep them in little books where other people can't see how many items are left unchecked; I am an ambitious lister. Anyway, these here lists are going out for general human consumption- firstly so that I can reference them when I forget them, and secondly so that you can tell me when I have forgotten them. (Note: lists are addressed to myself, so when I say "you," I mean me. All Lauren, all the time.)

Things I learned in 2011:

-It's good to figure out what you want, and then look at it, like the little naked-desire-worm it is, and decide if you really want it; if it's worth it.

-If it is, go for it. But you might not get it, because that's the way how life works.

-Doing fewer things will probably make you better at the things you do do.

-Any plan you make is probably backwards. Ask for help. Do you NOT KNOW how bad you are at chess?

-Listen to other people. For real. They are right more often than you want to admit.

-It feels better when there aren't dirty dishes in the sink.

-You can spend a lot of time worrying about the ways in which other people are better at stuff than you, but that time will not make you any better off.

Marching orders for 2012:

-Stop buying chairs. You have TOO MANY CHAIRS. (Unless they are dining-table chairs. You need more of those.)

-You have been consistently surprised by the illogical generosity that has been shown to you. Show that to other people. Try to give away more than you take in. It shouldn't be as hard as you want to think it is.

-Finish the projects you started in 2011. The bathroom, at least.

-WATCH LESS TV. Sooooo much less.

-Make more quilts, and then give them to people. You have a serious baby-quilt-backlog.

-You like blogging, so take the time to do it, even when it takes forever and makes you jittery.

-Go outside more, you dirty dirty hermit.

Oh, 2012, I hope you are less messy, but you might not be. You might be messier. We'lljusthaftasee.

Someone I forgot...

FIrst of all, thank you for so many lovely comments about the banner. It was such an awesome opportunity to serve by doing something that I already love doing. I don't think I'll be using much purple for a while, though.

My husband reminded me, though, that I left out one very important member of the construction team... Rufus was by my side the whole time, to sit on things that shouldn't be sat on, and walk over things that shouldn't be walked on, and just look downright pathetic. Baxter helped, but at a distance, because he is smarter.
(Forgive the quality, it's an instagram photo, so it's teeeeny. Also, I stole it from my husband, thanks @chomperhead. Also, do you instagram? It's delightful, yo. Let's be friends, I'm @lauren_hunt )

The Largest Thing I've Ever (Kindof) Made.

So.  This story is long, maybe, I think. But here goes.

Last year I was asked by my church (Redeemer Fellowship, holla), to sew Advent decorations for the sanctuary. 

The church is giant and beautiful and 122 years old, and I gleefully accepted, and then realized I had, like, three weeks.

Grand ideas for a massive, glorious, banner were made and then immediately scrapped; and what we ended up with was a 15 yd piece of the fakest polyester dupioni you've ever seen, hemmed on the sides and thrown over a rafter. I called it The Worm. It looked like a worm. A shiny, sparkly, purple worm. It was serviceable but unfortunate, and plans were made to try again this year.

And soooooooooooooo, fast forward to this August, and the wheels begin to turn again. This time, however, there was TIME and SKETCHES and DISCUSSION and MATH. The fuzzy ideas of the previous year came into focus, happily colliding with my newly found love for Korean patch work, pojagi, or, as I call my method, faux-jagi. My friend Alex mentioned in this blog post how she and I had started experimenting with the technique, using this tutorial by Victoria of The Silly BooDilly. 

So I wrote a proposal. And then ordered 6 bolts of shot cotton. And then waited for them to arrive. And then stared at them guiltily whilst I finished a few other projects. And then it began.

And I should say right now, the title of this post is misleading; I did not make this banner. I had so much help from other women in the church, many of whom I had never met before. We talked and we sewed and we cut and they ironed. Oh, how they ironed! Oh, how little I managed to iron! It was truly glorious. I asked them to sew the seams completely randomly, and then sew those pieces together randomly, and so on. There was no deliberating, no second-guessing, we just put it all together and let it happen. I was confident that it would be done-- only because at the end of the day, it wasn't in my hands, (my ridiculous, scattered, faulty hands); but it was guided by, and to the glory of Someone Much Bigger.  It was EXCITING, and it was AMBITIOUS, and it was PRETTY and we were OPTIMISTIC!  Anything, after all, was better than The Worm.

Near the end though, when I was constantly dragging 30 ft. lengths of patchwork around the house, sewing through the night, and seeing purple everywhere I looked, I began to get anxious. It all revolved around one issue: Would there be enough light? The whole point of all the Pojagi piecing was that light would shine through the thick seams to create one giant, glorious, abstract design. If there wasn't enough light, the whole thing would just look like a giant purple sheet. All of the work, all of the Fold-Stitch-Iron-Stitch-Repeat, it would all be INVISIBLE. I was terrified by the thought that it might just end up being The Worm's big brother.

The final day was spent frantically sewing, ironing, binding, and pinning. Brian was drafted and spent most of the day ironing, a service for which I will owe him for the rest of my life. It turns out, friends, that 60 ft. of anything? Is a LOT. I had three 60 ft. sections, each between 1.5 and 2 ft. wide, to sew together. And then bind. Not all of which, of course, managed to happen, but eventually it HAD TO GO UP.  The last half-hour of sewing was not pretty, my friends. But I gathered up my giant pile of banner and wrestled it into the car in a giant heap that I couldn't see over. When we arrived at the church, I spent ten minutes pulling pins out of the unfinished bits, and praying that the height would hide the many (MANY) unfinished edges. I was tired and unbathed and hungry and WEEPY. And then it went up.

Light, dude. Providence.