I have tried to be discreet, really I have, but is there any way to put a tree in a room without drawing a little attention? I don’t think so. And yet my shop has gone through so many transformations, a deeper reflection of myself.

Awhile ago, (well maybe two years ago) I purchased this beat-up doll house at an estate sale. I bought it on a whim. It was the dollhouse I never had growing up. I always wanted one like this, and mine was always the metal kind without a lot of charm. When I was little, I did everything I could to make improvements with more plastic furniture and people with moving parts, but it never really satisfied me. So when I saw this, it was an instant and heartfelt moment.

I painted everything inside and out with the Annie Sloan Chalk Paint. I could not believe how it improved the appearance. I put a decorated Christmas tree inside and even some tiny string lights on the outside that can be turned on by a battery. I just want to move into it and set up some cozy rooms. Currently, it is empty, but full of anticipation!

And doesn’t everyone need some tiny red shoes under a tree to complete the mood? I just want a little magic in my life. I think everyone does. More to come.

This is my favorite time of year. I also begin to reflect and feel a need for anchoring my life to some sort of weight. I miss this ritual of thinking and writing in this space. My life these days is bonded to another commitment, a creative and challenging one, but full of inspiration and fun. It consumes any time I have for blogging beyond this focus.

When we light candles in our homes, there is an immediate sense of comfort, of slowing down, and allowing our thoughts to meander and bounce around. Then as if in a kind of meditative state, the candles and the peace of the moment bring us to that stillness and quiet again.

I miss all of you, and think of you and wonder how you are all doing. Sometime, I will get back here and post again on a more regular basis. I understand this place so much better than anywhere else.

I have a thing about the flowering trees and shrubs here in Portland in the spring. I cannot seem to get enough of them. Every one that I see seems to be better than the last or more abundant with blooms or graceful or magical. I am simply looking for an excuse to photograph another one some place in some nondescript location. This morning as I was passing this one in the rain, I started thinking about the very wet spring we have had here. And then, as thinking always leads to another stream of subjects, the tornadoes in the Midwest came to mind. We could conclude that it is aberration, but I think not. It is just the weather taking a turn to convince us that nothing in life is predictable, ever.

Just like the sunrise that I caught as I left Mendocino yesterday morning. It is always different in some way, like a snowflake. The color, the shapes of the cloud formation, the silhouettes, there is something that presents itself as every-changing and evolving.

And why do I find wild lupines growing on a sandy beach on my drive home when I merely stopped to photograph the waves and the rocks in the distance?

And more than anything else, how did I leave this photo in my cell phone for so long and not appreciate its magnificent message…that there is a power in nature that we simply do not understand and probably will never comprehend.

This was the inspiration for Tigi, my collage kitty in lace and softness…..

And this is Ebenezer, soon to be found in the best way I know how.

The tail was a good beginning.

The fur will be a long but fun process.

There is a potential for grace here, and that is how I envision Ebenezer.

Gray cats have various tones of color, so in this tub I dumped many whites and cream and ecru tones to see if I could get some nice variations. I also did two other tubs of color and ended with a nice assortment.

Ebenezer has stolen my heart. I have spent the last two and a half days on his tail alone because tails are so important to cats, especially Ebby. There will be a lot more manipulation of fabric in this cat so it has more of a sculptural quality in its fur. I am doing a lot of tearing and gathering and forming. There is no end to the results that one can create with lots of playing and hand stitching. I think Ebby will find a nice new make believe home here with lots of love and devotion.

I will post a few pieces here and there as I work in the days ahead. I have a trip to see my grandchildren next week, but I am hoping to take Ebenezer with me. His tail will be finished today.

Tigi was named for a cat that I met through a missing cat sign on a telephone pole. The name and the personality stayed with me until it became a kind of spiritual entity, a remembrance, as many of these cats are never found.

Throughout the creation of Tigi, the word “tender” captured the mood, and therefore, the lace, muted tones, and fragile pieces became the guiding design elements.

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The pieces are collaged, and some of the them were made in strips with lots of stitching holding them together. All of it is made with old laces and textiles, some quite fragile.

I basically let the laces and textiles dictate intuitively where they should be placed.

I started with some heads and paws…..

And then to create the body and legs and tail, I formed the remainder by looking at my cats and measuring and cutting.

If I create another, I would hope for it to be less cartoon-like and more realistic.

For the last several weeks now, I have been diligently working on a project that is so close to my heart. I am thinking a series of these projects, for starters, will be a good thing. I have spent so much time on this, hour after hour but loving every bit and piece and stitch.

Of course my work table is covered end-to-end and side-to-side with lots of things, but tidy is not on my list of priorities for the moment.

Recently, The World of Interiors in their recent issue, March 2011 also published an article with photos of this story and again I was moved by its history. The mothers would leave a swatch of clothing or something that would connect them back to their child should they ever return to claim him or her. The Foundling Museum decided to present these textiles in an exhibit called “Threads of Feeling”. For further information the website is here.

In my stitching for Jude’s class at Spiritcloth I had seen her stitch a similar strip and it reminded me of the token swatches left behind. I sewed some of my oldest pieces to a torn strip of silk and cotton voile leaving the scars of wear showing or the places where the dart or gather used to be in some of the velvets. I have an application for this in the near future, and I like the way it carries some history of cloth in its shadow of mystery. There is something so solid and deeply rooted in this string of patches.

Recently I was reading another blog (and that is another subject for another post), and came across a reference from Twyla Tharp’s wonderful and inspiring book, The Creative Habit. I am devouring the book a second time. Every morning, before my walk, I sit down with a cup of coffee and Twyla. I write in another journal the things that inspire me while I read as well as some of the ideas and quotes from the book.

It has been my habit for years to write my name and the date when I finish a book, just to help me recall when or sometimes if I had read it. Once in a while, not too often, I will go back and re-read a book. When I do, I find all kinds of ideas and inspirations that seem new to me. Did I forget or did I grow in such a way that I see things differently now? I think it is a combination of both, but I did not recall the excitement that I have now in this second reading. I highly recommend this book.

This photo was taken in Massena, New York when I was probably three. It has the seeds of my creative DNA. I see them loud and clear. Whenever I am doubtful about who I am or what matters to me, I go and look at this picture, and it clearly spells things out to me. My mother used to tell me a story when I reached adulthood, a story she often repeated, about my love of dolls, but not just any doll. When I was very young and would be given a doll as a gift, I would pick it up and stare at the face for the longest time. If I did not like what I saw there I would put it down and never touch it again. If I liked the expression I would carry the doll around until it fell apart.

I would venture to say that Twyla would call this my “creative hard-wiring or personality.” For me it is all in the details, the look, the touch, the color, the mood, the gesture. It simply has to fit some preconceived notion. Period. I am drawn to details, quiet, solitude, controlled stimulation, and lots of color.

I bought this teacup a number of years ago at an antique show. It was a bargain because of its slight crack and no saucer to set it in. It was love at first sight. I stare at it often. It gives me joy and inspiration. It is like the doll’s face. I never tire of reaching out for it and filling me up with good things, things I care about and love.

All of this really boils down to some thoughts I would like to share here about why I sometimes am a reluctant blogger. I like the medium but sometimes I find it a little overwhelming and challenging. I don’t like being pinned down sometimes either. I started blogging originally to share creative ideas and find others that I could connect with in this domain. After nearly three years (I had one year with another account), I discovered it had slowly become a very personal journal. Did I want this?

Did I really want to look inside myself and share all the details that I discovered there, good and bad. I don’t think so, not really, but how was I to be authentic without being raw and completely open for all the world to see? Sometimes I would awaken in the night and be aghast at something I had written or expressed. In the morning, it would not seem all that bad, but then I wondered how I could discern what was appropriate to disclose and what details of my life did I really want to share?

Essentially, I am a very introspective and quiet and thoughtful person. I love my time alone. I treasure it. Growing up my mother always wanted me to be social and a joiner. I had to be in the choir, pageant, girl’s club, and church youth group and later other organizations she deemed important. It was not who I was. My creative DNA was in the details I found around me and the beauty of nature and the profound and rich love I found in pets. I was a solitary traveler. I could have been a park ranger if I had sewing projects to keep me going in the long stretches of quiet.

I love to focus on one thing and glean what I can from it. Distractions are my number one enemy. If I am hauled away, I have a hard time returning to the point where I was in the moment of that concentration. Twyla says the two detriments to creativity are distractions and fears. Absolutely. So back to blogging….I fear exposure and the time I spend in this space is often my distraction. I found I was spending two and a half hours some mornings visiting other blogs and commenting or responding to comments on my blog. Suddenly my time was less for creative hours spent in solitude and more about keeping up with a social network. What was I to do?

I think since I am so drawn to detail that it is hard for me to sit down and respond sometimes to others on a regular basis because it takes an overwhelming amount of energy. I think this is also why I cannot enter a room full of people and not feel anxiety. I am hard-wired for one-on-one relationships and spaces between my effort to connect. I have to honor this. I simply have to finally recognize that I am not the typical blogger or emailer or internet person. I need lots and lots of time to restore my energy in order to reconnect and be social again. The world is too fast, too full of stimulation and energy. I need to rest in the quiet details and find solace and peace and restorative balm before I can be in the crowd again or the blogging world.

I can stay here at mendofleur if I am honest with myself, that sometimes I may respond to comments when I have the stamina for it. I will often visit other blogs and not leave comments, and I think that is alright too. Blogging etiquette requires rules for which I cannot always adhere. These are just some of my thoughts about my dilemma in this space. I long to have more hours in the day for actual creative work, and if I don’t get it, I feel depressed and frustrated. I want to live in the beauty of details and quiet moments every single day that I can manage. So I am going to try and be present in my own way at this medium. I am hoping it becomes more focused on my creative output versus my personal life. That is really my goal and wish. I simply do not want anyone to be hurt or offended if I sometimes seem absent. We are all hard-wired in our own and unique ways, and I am going to try and give myself the gift of creative time and solace in 2011.

I am not quitting my blog. I am slow as this turtle in getting around and answering all the wonderful comments you have left over the last week. I will post more on why and the changes I want to make as well as the reasons for debating the idea in the first place. When I have more quality time to convey some of this, I will try and get to this tomorrow as in the form of a letter maybe. I have so appreciated all your honesty as well as support and promise to get back in the next 24 hours to address this. Right now I have another post I need to take care of before this.