If you remember, when in New York (… come back!!! this is not a post about my holidays!!…) I attended a lovely workshop by the gorgeous Rose Pearlman…

Punch needle for those who don’t know it is a technique that allows you to loop yarn, ribbons or strips of fabric through a fabric base in whichever pattern you wish and it’s used to make sturdy rugs or wall hangings or delicate pictures, depending on the thickness of the needles/yarns etc.  Also, to make it slightly more complicated there are various techniques to achieve these…  in fact the more traditional way, better known as ‘rug hooking’ is worked from the front of the piece, whilst punch needle is worked from the back…. but both methods produce loops and both sides are gorgeous and deciding which one ones  you like best is kind of tricky.  Or maybe it’s just me.

Rose taught us using an Oxford punch needle and you can find them here.

My first experiment… was just that… an experiment.  What I loved about Rose’s workshop is that after teaching us the technique , and telling us all about  the material and tools etc., she just left us to our own devices and gave us the freedom to try our own designs and our own styles.  I’m not keen on those workshops where you end up making clones of the teachers’ work.

Anyway, my first piece was totally too ambitious.  The photo is terrible because windowless hotel rooms and phones are not the best thing to use… I like the way the bowl turned out although the stitches are too short and lumpy, but the ‘fruit’ just looks plain weird and anyway I was totally bored so it got frogged.

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… moving on swiftly…

The beauty of punch needle is that you can rip it our many times and nobody is any wiser at the end.  Genius.

For the second attempt I decided to focus more on the technique itself.  I wanted to get my stitches longer and more regular.  I loved the blue arch in this version but not the long cross so I had to rip both off and then forgot about the arch…

doh.

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And this is the third attempt.  I made, MADE, myself finish it and it’s FAR from perfect.  I’m keeping it as a ‘learning curve’.  the composition in itself is ok but now looking back I don’t like how I staggered the stitches.

This is actually ‘the back’, which I think is the more modern side of each piece….

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and this is the ‘front’ when still stapled to the frame, just in case you’re curious.

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and you know what?  I think I prefer it.

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especially when it’s all cleaned up and neat.

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Again: though it might be kept as the front (actually the back)

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… versus back which is the real front and will be kept as such on this occasion.

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Loopy side it is, then.

Don’t ask me what I’ll do with it… it’s too early for that.

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… One more post about my trip and then I’ll stop, I promise!

I didn’t know much about the sculptor Louise Bourgeois aside from her giant spider sculptures and her later life visceral prints… as a matter of fact one of her spiders was on show at the MoMA and boy, that thing was HUGE.  Seriously big.  Fascinating in a creepy kind of way…  what I had always wanted to see however were her fabric books.

Late in her life she decided she didn’t need all the clothes and linen she’d accumulated all her life so she started cutting into them … and made this incredibly neat, colourful, fantastic books with them.

Some pages are patchwork, some are prints… all together are breathtaking.

“you can… remember your life by the shape, the weight, the colour, the smell of the clothes in your closet”  LB

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How amazing are those?  Inspiring, right?  Perhaps instead of making quilts nobody wants I should make fabric books… little mini quilts…

I really like how she puts button holes in the margin to bind the pages together.  Genius.

There were also some great prints too, strikingly contemporary…  Louise died in 2010 at 98 and her story is fascinating… born in France in 1911, moved to the States in 1940, produced huge amounts of work, from sculptures, to drawings to prints and works in fabrics… till a week before her death.  I kind of regret not buying the catalogue of the exhibition now…

“it is not an image I am seeking.  It’s not an idea.  

It is an emotion you want to recreate”

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… just not too keen on those spiders…

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Last day.IMG_8413Horrid weather.  Drenching.  Grey.  Dark. (New York has always got a certain charm but I didn’t have the right shoes that’s for sure…)

So after packing up our suitcases we decided to go to a museum;  and what a remarkably unoriginal idea it turned out to be.

The Moma was the closest so armed with hotel umbrellas we walked the 0.3 miles… oh boy.  I have never been to a busier place, you literally had to queue to look at paintings!  Bonkers.

Still, though, the fashion exhibition was very interesting (weird to see so many item of clothing from my own closet in a museum… am I that old already?)

And the art… well the art is always amazing, I’m quite good at retreating in my own bubble and ignore the world, so I enjoyed the visit regardless of the crowds.  If you’ve seen my instagram video you know what I mean.

These were my favourite pieces:

Pablo PicassoIMG_8416

Sonia Delauney-TerkIMG_8417

Henry MatisseIMG_8419

Paul KleeIMG_8422

Lyubov PopovaIMG_8423

Franz KlineIMG_8425

Mark RothkoIMG_8431

Jackson PollockIMG_8432

Andrew WyethIMG_8433

Charles SheelerIMG_8434

Edward HopperIMG_8438Ellsworth KellyIMG_8445

How good are they?

Crowds or not they were worth the jostling and wait.

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… delicious brunch at The Cupping Room Cafe in Soho… blueberry pancakes drenched in maple syrup… so so good… (I was going to say drizzled, but it would have been a lie, I drowned them in the stuff!).

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Why Soho?  Because I had booked a punch needle workshop at Purl Soho ran by the lovely Rose Pearlman.

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It was great, I learned loads and came back full of ideas… I would show you what I did… if I hadn’t ripped it all off this morning at 5.45am when totally awake with jet lag and Mr M was snoring in the bedroom and the boys were asleep and it was raining outside and I was bored out of my mind, so I sat on the toilette and started again…

Yeah.

Jet lag is a beast, but punch needle is amazing and you should all try it.  So nothing much to show you a part from the famous Purl Soho wheel quilt:

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Cool eh?

 

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Today, just for a change, we walked.  New York is so diverse that walking down a couple of streets can make you feel you’re in a different city altogether.  I love that.  You can’t get bored here.

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Chinatown…

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… downtown…

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and across the Brooklyn bridge…

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(look I’m here too… do you always find that you’re behind the camera and it looks like you weren’t even on holiday with your family?)

… then a short taxi ride to hip Williamsburg, full of cool restaurants and independent shops.  We fed the boys Japanese for lunch… Japanese!!  And they survived… whatever next… salads? Geesh…

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and back by subway to Manhattan…

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then a sunset stroll to dinner…

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.. aaaaand goodnight.

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… So… up early for a long subway ride

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and a short ferry journey to Ellis Island (we visited the ‘big lady’ on our previous visit so this time we just waved as we sailed past)

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On Ellis Island we took a ‘hard hat’ tour  and went ‘behind the scene’ into all the abandoned buildings that are still standing behind the museum.  It’s a very interesting place and or guide knew everything and more and I highly recommend it.

The French street Artist JR has an ongoing installation here and his work his amazing.

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He pastes life size (and bigger) copy of authentic photos taken on Ellis Island onto walls, windows and floors…

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… like ghosts they inhabit the deserted rooms… echoes… shadows.

Beautiful.

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We then paid a visit to the 9/11 Memorial

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and the new subway station (designed by Santiago Calatrava)

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… mmmmh jury is out on this one… I know there’s still a lot of construction work going on around it… so the full impact is not quite what it should be… but … I’m not sure…  I love the interior… almost cathedral like.  But the outside?  It’s a little bit scary… like some prehistoric monster diving in and out of the ground.  Maybe I’m missing the point of it.  It certainly is different and brave.

In the evening we headed to the fabulous Madison Square Garden for a ice hockey match

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… and then totally knackered we stumbled along 7th Avenue, through Times Square… all the way home.

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Dead on our feet.

Dead feet.

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Mannahatta (by Walt Whitman)

I was asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon lo! upsprang the aboriginal name.

Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane,
unruly, musical, self-sufficient,
I see that the word of my city is that word from of old,
Because I see that word nested in nests of water-bays,
superb,
Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and
steamships, an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
Numberless crowded streets, high growths of iron, slender,
strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies,
Tides swift and ample, well-loved by me, toward sundown,
The flowing sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining
islands, the heights, the villas,
The countless masts, the white shore-steamers, the lighters,
the ferry-boats, the black sea-steamers well-model’d,
The down-town streets, the jobbers’ houses of business, the
houses of business of the ship-merchants and money-
brokers, the river-streets,
Immigrants arriving, fifteen or twenty thousand in a week,
The carts hauling goods, the manly race of drivers of horses,
the brown-faced sailors,
The summer air, the bright sun shining, and the sailing
clouds aloft,
The winter snows, the sleigh-bells, the broken ice in the
river, passing along up or down with the flood-tide or
ebb-tide,
The mechanics of the city, the masters, well-form’d,
beautiful-faced, looking you straight in the eyes,
Trottoirs throng’d, vehicles, Broadway, the women, the
shops and shows,
A million people–manners free and superb–open voices–
hospitality–the most courageous and friendly young
men,
City of hurried and sparkling waters! city of spires and masts!
City nested in bays! my city!

Do you ever have days when you kind of feel disconnected from reality?  When you kind of go through the motions so from the outside all seems to be ‘normal’, whatever that is… you get dressed, feed the children, do the laundry… but from the inside everything seems fuzzy and kind of out of focus.  Do you know what I mean?  Like you’re not ‘here’, even if you are… and if you were to disappear… the world would simply carry on regardless…

I don’t mean I’m feeling depressed…I’m not…. hormonal? yes, obvs… but it’s different than the homicidal (just exaggerating to make a point) ‘time of the month’… it’s exactly the opposite…

Anyway, the last two days have been ‘foggy’ to the extreme.  I actually did think I had ‘actually’ posted my music Wednesday video… I was sure of it.  Yeah… in my head I did.  I won’t tell you what it is… I’ll keep it for next time.

Which is why I wasn’t here.  Fog.

On the positive side next week we’ll go on a short family vacation and I can’t wait.  End of term tiredness, work stress, horrible weather and full blown teenage ‘grumps’ (and ‘fog’) are taking its toll on all of us.  AND nobody had told me today was national Gin day… call yourself friends?  I’m sitting in the lounge by myself eating Ben&Jerry ‘half baked’ when I could be drinking GIN!!

Geesh.

Sigh.

Mr M is out with work.

No 3 is hooking up with friends on the playstation

No 2 is supine on his bed snap chatting and watching videos

I’m eating ice-cream and rambling on about nothing.

It’s stormy outside… the weather has been all over the place lately but I’m warm inside under a knitted blanket and candles are lit and I’m about to pick up my knitting and all is well and I just wanted to touch base.

I’m still here.

Normal posting will resume shortly.