the many solitudes


Canada, apparently, is a cultural mosaic – unlike the United States which is a melting pot.

(Oh, an aside – fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen. It’s going to be a long ride today.)

Or so we were always told in public school… and I never really thought this through until the other day when I decided that I should make my dear friend Robert a special mosaic for Canada Day. He, unlike me, is very patriotic and so is having a Canada Day party to mark the official birthday of our country (in 1867 – I know that much at least).

So, I went searching for the provenance of the term “cultural mosaic”. Here’s what I found, courtesy of the ever-insightful Wikipedia:

The first use of the term mosaic to refer to Canadian society was by John Murray Gibbon, in his 1938 book Canadian Mosaic. Gibbon clearly disapproved of the American melting-pot concept. He saw the melting pot as a process by which immigrants and their descendants were encouraged to cut off ties with their countries and cultures of origin so as to assimilate into the American way of life.

Hmm. This, although interesting to me, did not much help me with planning my mosaic. So, I hit the forest for inspiration, like so many Canadians before me:

…and came up with this:

Unfortunately, the only colour of glass that is lacking in my brobdignanian stash (and if you think my yarn stash is over the top, people, you should see my stash of stained glass!) is… you guessed it, green.

So, I had to make do with another colour:

The glass there is actually pink, by the way. I still really don’t know how to operate this camera.

I started by mapping out the leaf shape on a handy dandy glass frame that I scored from the unofficial dumping station behind my apartment building a couple of years ago:

I then – much like the Fathers of Confederation, I suppose –

(If you’ve visited here before today, you may well recognise Sir John Eh?… he’s the one with his head in the middle of the biggest window. I do get a kick out of how painters through the ages have found very similar ways to point out the important guy in the scene..

…but, as ever, I digress.)

Where was I again? Oh yes. Anyway, much like the Fathers of Confederation, I pieced together a symbol of an emerging country, and ended up with this:

(I will pause officially here to note that I actually tried to consult with Sir John Eh? about this but apparently he had started the Canada Day celebrations a bit earrrrly …

…but as JJ reminds me, Sir John Eh was actually from Glesga Scotland.)

So, I decided it was all guid, and progressed apace. In so doing, let me tell you that I injured myself.

This is partly because, when starting the mosaic, I realised that I had left the top of my trusted tile adhesive and when I went to use it, I was faced with a concrete glue pile. So, having no time to spare, I had to whip out the glue gun, and became careless:

Let it be known that I do suffer for my art. I am a proud Canajan in this regard, but our schizophrenic cultural identity as Canajans (that is, half Brit, half Murcan) leads me to adopt the British part and suffer in (virtual) silence. By the way, Robert, eventual recipient of the mosaic, does not use the internet and so will not be reading this post. So, let’s just keep this our little secret (at least, until he sees me tomorrow and says “Hey girl, what’s up with all those cuts and burns on your hands?!?!?!).

Anyway, despite my mortal wounds, I carried on –

(I include this photo, although it’s rather blurry, because I thought that the headline that was inadvertently captured on the underlying newspaper was spookily Canadian. And, by the way, I would welcome any other Canadians, if you feel otherwise, to post a comment or Email me and tell me so – and why. I won’t bore you with my theories at present).

And, eventually, I ended up with a microcosm of what it must have looked like here when they were building all these vast railways and roadways…

Voila!

Now, it’s time for me to confess something. In working on this “cultural mosaic”, I felt for the first time in years a real love for my country. I have been disillusioned of late, really. Champagne socialist angst, perhaps – although I do realise I live in a wonderful country, bit by bit our standard of living is being eroded, and I have seen big changes in my adult lifetime.

(I’ll note as an aside that to me it is frustrating (although interesting) that Michael Moore, for example, has decided to sell a message about the United States by painting my city and country as a gun-free paradise where everyone leaves their doors and cars unlocked and can just attend at hospital and get whatever treatment they want, without cost. That may have been the case twenty years ago, but it is not today. Sorry, Michiganer (Michiganite? Michigonian? friends. I know that Mike has done a great power of guid – but I’m an unhappy Canajan with his portrayal of the situation here and I’ve written a strong E-mail or two!)

But then, I’ve had to get off my leftie high horse and think about what being a Canadian actually means to me. And so I had to give some thought to why I ended up a Canadian in the first place… because of people like my mother’s father who came here at 14, shipped off from Greece to send money home to his family, and made a good life and prospered. And my mother’s grandparents, who came here similarly and did well.

And then, on the way to work today I saw this freebie magazine which I usually ignore

And then I had to remember how moved I was to be at Pier 21 in Halifax and see a photo of the boat that my father travelled here on for a new life:

So, it was very, very good to have the reminder that people came here for a better life and had it… as a result of which, I get to be a lawyer here with a decent pay and get to whine and rant on my blog about the state of the politics in my country, without censure. And, by the way, I can also afford to live next to a beautiful forest where I can go and stroll and steal a maple leaf to inform my artistic endeavours, such as they are.

And then I had to think about the “cultural mosaic” bit from the writer I quoted at the outset – and it finally makes sense to me. I get to live here, speak and write and read Greek, cook Greek, live with a scottish guy, have him and everyone else respect my heritage and also my lifestyle choices. And still be considered a “Canadian”. This is truly a gift.

So, I must make a deep dark confession – I am, indeed, a proud Canadian. I think that my mosaic for Robert reflects the shifting contours and the uncertainty of this nation. And I’m very happy that Robert is hosting this party, and was so excited about buying Canada Day decorations, which made me think I should make him a special Canada Day present, etc. etc. etc.)

(JJ, himself a new Canadian who loves Canada more than I do, said that the piece reminded him of the Magic Eye contests in the paper… you know the ones, if you cross your eyes you see the true image? The true image of this piece is the maple leaf).

As it happens, to me the mosaic looks abstract – I had originally thought to make the background a blatant contrast colour, then went against this. And I’m happy with this choice (although JJ is not) – I believe it better represents Canada as a place where change and adaptability… and progress…are always possible. I’m calling it “Many Solitudes”.

Happy Canada Day! Off now to cook the stuff I’m bringing to the party and make sure the beer is chilling…

stream of consciousness (oh no not again!)

Well, last evening there was a marvellous sunset for a change… partly, doubtless, because yet another thunderstorm looms.  But hey.

Isn’t it good and spooky-looking?  It actually made me covet (even more) one of these masks which I had seen on the Globe and Mail web photo page yesterday

Now, how’s THAT for a craft project?!?  They’re called “devil masks”.  The photo above is of dancers about to do a Spanish folk performance in Barcelona.

Ah, Barcelona.  Home of Gaudi mosaics!

I wish I could be 1/10 this talented… but at the very least I will definetely visit Barcelona as soon as humanly possible (although with the fuel prices where they’re at and the response of the airlines, I will likely need divine intervention to afford an overseas ticket before long.  Sigh.)

But something else is nagging me about Barcelona.  What the hell is it?!

Ah, yes.

I do hope you’ve all seen Fawlty Towers at some point. If so, you must remember Manuel – don’t you?! “I am from Barthelona” Manuel”, who has even been known to talk to Canadians from time to time!

And, there’s even a pinko poster starring Manuel, much to my general amusement!

I was still laughing at this by the time I came home yesterday.  So much so that the new balcony decoration escaped my normally keen eye until I went out to take the sunset photos:

Now, I do have a black thumb and all, but even stunned little me managed to pick up that these are actually fake flowers, not real ones.  I couldn’t figure out what they were doing in a planter with real dirt. So I asked J “His Master’s Voice” J, who is responsible for the landscaping at the House of Brouhaha (and who, I might add, has fallen down severely on the task this year).

JJ: Ah was waiting to see how long it wuid tek ye to notice… (consulting the ever present watch)…only 3 and a half hours.  No’ bad, hen.

KB: What?!?!?  What do you mean?!?  Are you testing me?  Where the hell did you get those anyway?!?

JJ: Ah’m surprised ye don’t recognise them – we’ve both bin trippin over them on the balcony floor this past month or so.

KB: Hey, there are two adults in this house.  If you noticed them a month ago, why didn’t you pick them up then????

JJ:  Ah was waitin to see how long it wuid tek ye to notice…

You see what I put up with?!?  Lucky for me, despite the global warming, the smog, etc., the sunsets in Toronto can still be lovely.

May I say it’s been pleasant chatting with you all?  But now I must away to get the first coffee of the morning…

Happy Wednesday!

some objets d’art

I know, I know… I’ve been rather slack on posting project photos. This is partly because my work on Seascape is going rather slowly, and partly because I’ve taken up work on a rather large-scale mosaic project which I don’t wish to reveal until finished.

(Oh – I’ve also taken up practicing the piano – or in my case, the electric piano-style keyboard, which was until two weeks ago the largest and most expensive dust-collector in my apartment.

However, just to remind my faithful readers (and myself!) that this is primarily a crafts-based blog, here are some photos of the recent balcony work in the House of Brouhaha.

First up, a freeform mosaic (“freeform” meaning nothing is glued down, and so this work can change at a moment’s notice) featuring rocks I collected at the seashore in Inverness, Nova Scotia

Although you probably can’t tell from the photo, this is a water bowl. (Oh, and I should note, the table it’s on was rescued from the back of the apartment building last year but I finally got around to spraypainting it on Saturday). I got the idea from a mosaic book, although that water bowl featured tiles.

Actually, the use of the base bowl (which is a terra cotta thing that is meant to go underneath large planter pots – to this day I don’t know the name) is long overdue as there is a bit of a story behind its acquisition. I had read this idea about a Moroccan style “water bowl” with tiles more than two years ago, and of course needed to find the base right away. I searched up and down the garden centres close to me in Toronto but none of them sold this size (20″) in the clay version, only in plastic.
I had just about given up when JJ and I took a trip down to Kingston to visit my mother. We went for a day journey to Gananoque, about 20 minutes from Kingston, and found a very old-school hardware shop: here’s their blurb on line:

A Tradition in Gananoque, Since 1872
We at Donevan’s Hardware pride ourselves in being a 5th generation family owned and operated business for the past 135 years.
We are an old fashioned down to earth Hardware store. Typically customers come into our store for those hard to find items that no other stores carry.

Well, I am living proof of that statement, really I am. Why? Because I went into this wonderful shop (the type of shop I adore – all sorts of stuff jammed in) and asked if they had such a thing as a 20″ terra cotta dish. Well! I got taken up to the storage attic by one of the proprietors (who was 80 if she was a day) and got a tour of the storage while she looked for this dish, which she “just knew” was there. And so it was. And it cost… gasp!… $35! I had not wanted to spend more than $20 – but just could not refuse. She even insisted on calling up her (80 year old) husband from the cash to come and bring it down for me.

So, sale by sheer embarrassment. Having said that, do check out this shop if it’s still there. You won’t regret it – but just don’t ask for anything you don’t see on the shelf.

But, as ever, I digress.  Anyway, JJ got jealous of my water bowl and rocks so I let him have some of the rocks to put into his special fountain:

Having come across some rather decrepit candles in glasses, I then decided to try a wee experiment – salvaging and chopping up the wax from the dead candles, then putting them back in the pretty glasses with another candle in the middle:

I also put some sea glass in the one at the left as a little experiment.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  So far, so guid.

Oh, and I can’t help but show off another of my Nova Scotia acquisitions: a basalt tea light holder!

Huh?!?  Well, here’s what it looks like at the top:

So, all to say, our balcony is now all ship shape and ready for the party season… day or night!

Happy Tuesday!

a lovely spring afternoon…

…part of the loveliness courtesy of Michaels Craft Superstore!

We scored lots of goodies there yesterday.  For example, since I didn’t already nearly have enough beads for knitting…

… I needed to pick up some more.  Approximately 12,000 more by my calculation:

And what am I going to do with all these beads, you ask, shaking your head?  Well, a girl can never have too many chartreuse beads, can she?

These ones are intended to replace the gold beads I bought for the Moroccan Days shawl kit:

…which calls for 5,000 or so.  However, I poached some of the gold beads for the Sherwood I’m working on now:

(which I’ve decided, by the way, will be my mother’s belated present for Mother’s Day.  Hi, Mom!)

And these ones?

Well, I think they’ll go quite well with this Handmaiden Sea Silk in the Ocean colourway:

This, by the way, is the Ocean that I just had to have last August.  Yes, it’s still in the stash.  I’ve earmarked it for a “stealth project” (as Soo would say).  Stay tuned.

In keeping with the oceanic theme, I also picked up some sea glass:

It looks like pastel ice!

But don’t worry, JJ didn’t come home emptyhanded.  The reason for the trip in the first place so that he could pick up some stuff for the seasonal door decoration.  Here it is:

Isn’t it lovely?  Almost as lovely as this stuff…

Happy Sunday – and a happy Mother’s Day to those brave souls out there who have earned that title.

religious and other mosaic art

I’ve been looking for some inspiration of late to get back into mosaic work…and just had to take another look at some photos of Park Guell:

It’s a park built using primarily very funky mosaics and unusual building shapes.

The project is located in Barcelona. It was the brainchild of architects Antonio Gaudi and Josep Maria Jujel.

Imagine walking past this to get to work every day!

Now, although the project is now a municipal park, it was apparently built originally as an idealistic housing project.

Here, by contrast, is what your typical housing project looks like in Toronto:

Hmm.

There are also lots of sources of inspiration for mosaic artists in religious buildings. This is a photo of a shrine in Afghanistan:

… and this photo depicts restoration work being done on the Cosmati pavement in front of Westminster Abbey in London.

This, on the other hand, shows a typical religious shrine in Toronto:

North Americans certainly lack creativity, from the look of it.

Sigh.

Happy Wednesday!

**************

colouring my world

You’re not going to believe this… the other day was the 15th (a.k.a. PayDay) and I did not go to a yarn shop. What steely self-discipline!! (I should confess something, though – that was only because I went to the mosaic shop instead.) My middle name should be “magpie”. I cannot resist shiny glass things, particularly when they are mirrored and I can see my face in miniature warped dwarfdom. I then hit the Goodwill across the street and came across some treasures: The purchases would seem to indicate that I am just about ready to get back to mosaic. For some reason, spring and summer are the only times I seem to break plates and stick them to things anymore. Guess I’ve got to go with the muse when she hits, eh? But now I’m torturing myself because I came across these fabulous tapestry photos on line.

I want one!!!! And check out this stunning tapestries by Irene Dunn!

If I had one of these in my apartment, I’d feel like King Henry VIII. And by all accounts, he had a great time! I’m reminded of the fabric mosaic that the very talented Sequana sent me sometime back, although her colours are bolder as befits the modern ethic, of course!

Oh no. Now I want to take up tapestry and needlework. When will it end?!?! Then again, I probably won’t bother because this is about as talented as I get in that particular arena:

Hmm. I’d be defeated before I started, I think. Wah.

to-do list for 2008: top 10

Better late than never… I’ve always thought that resolutions were made to be broken, really, so instead I make a to-do list every year.

So, here’s the top 10 of the life plan for 2008, not necessarily in this order:

1. Make sure this isn’t the only to-do list you make all year. The to-do list can be an invaluable tool at the workplace. However, I continue to delude myself that I can actually remember everything I’m supposed to do. This works most of the time, but on occasion causes wholesale panic, usually in the middle of the night. So, just write it down already!

2. You bought a fancy new daytimer – so use it! See #1, above.

3. Finish the Nina Shawl. For some reason, I’ve already grown tired of this (you may have noticed that my attention span is somewhat short. As well, I’m not 100% on the colours I chose, an unusual occurrence for me).

What probably does not aid me in my cause is that I will insist on going to the LYS and buying new yarns like this:

Yesterday’s haul at the LYS – Handmaiden Silk Spun. I went in to buy a mag only. Silly me. This was the abortive internal struggle preceding that decision:

GOOD KRISTINA: It’s not necessary to go all the way over to Romni to buy a magazine. A magazine, by the way, which you actually saw yesterday at the Great Canadian News on the way to work!

EVIL KRISTINA: But we’re going to Gandhi to pick up a roti and Romni is right down the street from there. Great Canadian News is out of the way going home.

GOOD KRISTINA: (ripping what little hair she has left out) Well, what’s the big rush?!? It’s not like you’re going to rush home and start learning Irish crochet. You have the $#&*$(@#*$&(@#*&$ Nina Shawl to finish, don’t you remember?!?!?

EVIL KRISTINA: Stop swearing, ye wee bampot.

GOOD KRISTINA: AUGHGHGHGHGHGH!!! Stop channelling JJ!!!

EVIL KRISTINA: On that topic, comb your hair while you’re at it.

GOOD KRISTINA: (sulky silence)

EVIL KRISTINA: We’re going to Romni. That’s final.

GOOD KRISTINA:

Which leads me to:

4. Make mosaic version of “The Scream” by Munch.
. I’ve been planning this for a while. I need to save up, though, to buy smalti for it. The next point should aid in this cause…

5. Limit yarn shopping to one PayDay per month. Goddess knows there is enough in the stash that this would not constitute a huge hardship!

6. Learn Irish crochet. This is the mag that Evil Kristina just had to have yesterday.


Isn’t the shawl on the front cute? And I like the tradition behind Irish crochet. JJ didn’t admit it (as he will insist on being Scottish, not Irish, despite the fact that both his parents were born in Ireland), but he liked it to.

7. Make more mosaics generally. After all, it’s part of my cultural tradition…

… and this way, I could move to London and get a job as a subway mosaic artist!

You don’t want to see the Toronto equivalents, such as they are – way too grim. (Having said that, they are currently in the process of renovating Museum Station, the one next to the Royal Ontario Museum and my law school. Here is what it is meant to look like when done:

Wish it had looked like that when I attended law school. Maybe then I would have bothered to attend more frequently!

Which leads me to:

8. Decide whether you want to go back to school or not. This is something that has been plaguing me for some time (I’m not sure why, because I have always disliked school despite having gone on to obtain two bachelor’s degrees), and it’s high time that I fish or cut bait. However, part of me yearns to become the next Jane Jacobs, urban planner extraordinaire. There is no way I can hope to even try without going to planning school. So, therein lies the rub. (Part of the reason that I’m holding off is that I’m scared they won’t let me in. Strange, eh? It’s odd when the Type-A impulse rears its ugly head.)

9. Take lunch to work more often. I’m tired of spending $$$ at the Fresh & Wild(ly Expensive) grocery and if I keep eating Gandhi rotis I will need a whole new wardrobe. Besides, I do know how to cook:

Check out this funky curly long pasta, by the way!!

Oh – and not only can I cook, I can even pickle!

Couldn’t resist this shot… I need an antidote to all the grey droopy weather out there. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually eat these ones – looking at the jar is a great tonic in and of itself. Besides, I don’t like vegetables.

But I digress. And finally… (drumroll please):

10. Make an effort to keep the house in order. Because coming home to scenes like this gets a bit depressing, particularly when it’s dark all the time!
Included in this pile of apparent crap are various yarn stash treasures which never made it to the spare room because… well, you may have seen the spare room in the post I put up the other day.

Not all that ambitious, eh? There is some other stuff, mostly boring navel gazing garbage (and what was all of the above, you might well ask?!).

Wishing you luck with your resolutions/plans/etc for 2008! And, happy Friday! The Tenant Advocates are going out after work today – this week’s excuse, saying goodbye to Grace who is leaving us for greener (at the very least, money-wise!) pastures. She will be missed.

Cheers,

Kristina

PS. Oh – one more to-do list item:

11. Comb your hair.

How can such short hair be so messy?!? However, as I like to think of this trait as part of my winning charm, I am unlikely to comply with this particular item (besides, I think I may have glued the comb JJ gave me into a mosaic at some point).

Requiem to a Glue Gun

(sub nom. Patience: An Object Lesson.)

Why the title? I’m very sad to report that a fatality resulted from the creation of my Carmen Miranda headdress – and it was my fault.

I can tend towards the manic side when crafting (NO!!!! really? you say) and tend to approach things in a hasty fashion. So, when I realised that partway through gluing pretty fruits to one another with my brand new (and first ever!) glue gun that I had bought the wrong size of replacement glue sticks – way too big.

So, did I wait until the next day and take them to the shop to try to return them the following day? Of course not. Instead, I decided to forge on ahead on the theory that if I cut the oversized glue sticks in half, they’d work just fine.

WRONG.

Instead, the cut glue stick jammed in the mechanism. I tried to pry it out. No go. I was about ready to fling it over the balcony when JJ reminded me that I should not do anything that might brain an innocent raccoon and/or get us evicted for substantial interference. For once, I listened.

So instead, for the rest of the evening while I worked quietly on my crochet like a good girl, my tortured brain started planning a fitting tribute to the very short-lived glue gun. A new glue gun and a quarter of a 25 pack pack of properly sized (double and triple checked!) glue sticks later, Patience was born.

A bit about the process (such as it was – ironically, given the title, this piece took about 45 minutes to put together…):

I wanted to make something to keep near my desk to give myself the (often necessary) message that impetuousness can lead to disaster. Hence, the verbal message in the piece:
The glue gun, of course, had to be displayed prominently:
The timepiece attached (meant to remind of the importance of the passage of time necessary for the successful completion of a craft) is from a watch graveyard I discovered in my bedroom drawer underneath the old lingerie that I haven’t worn for 10 years. An interesting irony: the watch is stopped at 25 minutes to nine. That is almost exactly the time at which my glue gun bit the dust! (I remember because I actually missed a few minutes of one of my favourite programmes, This Hour has 22 Minutes due to my consternation.)

The rest of the piece consists of broken china from my grandmother’s “chipped” collection and flowers retrieved from the storage locker, which had been part of JJs past seasonal door decorations. There are also a few beads left over from a past scarf project.

This, after the fact, I figure could either be viewed as a symbol of breakage from hastiness, or a Horn of (crafting) Plenty:

with the requisite funereal white roses below. The roses are strewn with beads because… they’re shiny (I can’t keep up this deep symbolism thing all that long!)

I thought this flower jazzed up the project – life after death, that sort of thing. The brown centre looked too boring, especially after I came across the perfect rose “tessera” from the china collection:
And of course, I had to stick in my “trademark” – a hallmark from one of the china cups. I don’t know why a greek canadian boygirl like so obsessed with this “made in England” symbol of alleged excellence… best not to question, perhaps.
And, all put together, I ended up with this:
A fitting tribute? Farewell, kind glue gun. You participated in a very beautiful project, and I’m sorry I didn’t treat you with more patience. (Good thing I don’t have kids, eh?)

(Unfortunately, this is not the first victim, by the way, of craft injuries at the hands of Brouhaha. Here is a previous one. I’m sure there have been many more which I have blocked from memory.

Oh – I forgot to mention the backing! I had a wooden tray which had been rescued from the laundry room for a couple of years, in more or less perfect condition. Blue seemed an appropriate colour for the mourning theme, but with a note of brightness for moving forward. So, I got the spraypaint out.

Which, I should note, very nearly engendered another casualty. Spray painting can be hazardous to your health! Especially if you’re smoking a cigarette while using it.
Oops.

(I guess I should have clued into this before I started a spray ‘n smoke session. And yes, non-smokers, I do know that smoking is hazardous for my health as well. Believe me, I know. In case I was inclined to try to forget this basic fact of life, the government has decided to remind me at least 20 times a day:
And, just in case I somehow lost my ability to read and understand English:

Smoking is so glamorous! Really! How else do you get to try cyanide without dying immediately, may I ask?)

But, as usual, I digress. Suffice it to say that I obviously haven’t learned the “Haste Makes Waste” message completely. I’m only grateful that I didn’t end up wasted like this:

And… I’ll sign off with a hearty congratulations to my compatriot Manolis Andronikos,who on this date in 1977 discovered the tomb of Philip II of Macedon at Vergina – apparently a big archaeological discoveries of the 20th century. (What were you doing in 1977? I can’t specifically remember, but I was likely sulking because I had to play John Bosley in the Charlie’s Angels game at recess for the 27th time that year – when all I wanted to be Kelly Garrett. Just once. Or, maybe I was secretly lusting after Wonder Woman. SIGH. Life is full of disappointments, isn’t it?)

Olé!

(This is pronounced “olay”, as in “oil of”.) Like many North Americans, I learned whatever Spanish I know from Speedy Gonzales, so please pardon any spelling mishaps.

(It is a little known fact that Speedy Gonzales actually coined the phrase “Una cervesa* mas, por favor” – one of the most useful expressions in any language as far as I’m concerned!)

*Why didn’t I put a link to Corona above? I don’t like Corona. I don’t like Moretti either, but for some reason I love the painting of the old guy they use to advertise.) And if you were wondering, the word for “beer” in Italian – and Greek, for that matter, is birra. The Italians must have stolen it from the Greeks. Far simpler to remember for this ignorant North American.

Anyway, for those less tutored in Spanish than I, olé means “Opa” in Greek (closest English translation I can think of right now is Yee-hah!!)

Why the Spanish exhortations in a Greek/Scottish household, you ask? Because I recently took photos of my favourite mosaic creation ever (having realised I lost most of the other ones when I dropped my former laptop last winter… don’t fall asleep when blogging!!!), the Fiesta Chair!
So why not bore you with the story behind the creation today? I’m sure it won’t be the first time I’ve made you either yarn or hit the back button!

I made this one a couple of years back. Here’s my how-to:

1. Haunt the large garbage disposal in your apartment building until you come across a discarded child’s chair.

It is rather fortunate that I don’t have photos of the “before” picture. This may have been the ugliest chair ever seen. It was painted puce and had ripped burlap upholstery, probably because the poor toddler who was forced to use it took an X-acto knife to it in desperation.

So, of course I was completely thrilled!! (JJ, correspondingly, less so. He made me take it back outside, brought out a can of bug spray and sprayed it for about 15 minutes before I could bring it back up. I was afraid Super Mario might come and poach it…!)

2. Let the eyesore sit in your spare bedroom for a year and trip over it while you decide what to do with it.

No explanation needed here.

3. Break a Fiesta plate in the microwave by accident.

By the way, have you ever heard a plate crack in the microwave? It sounds like gunfire. When I woke up from my coma after being incapacitated when my head hit the ceiling, I was mighty peeved to learn that my favourite plate (which I had scored at my grandmother’s house) was broken.
They LIED! I almost wrote a very, very strong letter indeed. But, given that it had sat in my grandmother’s basement under two tons of canned goods for 20 years, I figured I’d save my sword-like pen for a worthier cause (such as writing to Loblaws to complain about their not having the $5/litre olive oil in stock and not offering raincheques…).

So, of course, I decided to break the only other Fiestaware in my possession (a small green side plate). All the broken pieces went into the spare room and then I spied the ugly burlap chair – A-ha!!!

4. Dip into the five gallon drum of paint lying around the spare room, and paint the eyesore.

That paint may well have been JJs one and only Treasure from Trash. He brought it home from work but didn’t know what colour it was. He works at a military base so I just assumed it was either khaki or institutional beige. However, I had no other paint in the house and was too lazy to walk five minutes to the Pro Hardware. So, I cracked into it. Wedgwood Blue!! Yee-hah!!!

(Let me tell you that JJ was not best pleased that I cracked open five gallons of paint to use on a baby chair. However, he sold the rest to Mario, our building superintendent, so all was not lost.)

5. Break some more crockery.

In this case, an old teacup from my grandmother’s collection. This detail is my little trick to stop people from trying to sit on the thing…

6. Raid your stash for beads and tiles and glue everything onto the chair.

Again, rather self-explanatory. However, I was glad to note that the middle part of the plate was more or less intact… so of course I smashed it (OPA!!!) and reassembled it in the middle of the chair seat.

I then discovered that this feature works very well as a plant stand. So, that is its official use. And, if there was a plant in existence which could live for more than a day in my presence, it would probably hold a plant all the time.

This is the one piece of furniture in my apartment which is never, ever draped with clothes/books (can one drape books? hmm)/empty cigarette packages or other general detritus of the Brouhaha lifestyle. So, that in itself should tell you its value to me!

Happy birthday to Joni Mitchell!

Cheers,

Kristina

PS. here is my other Spanish delight in progress:

I would have finished it tonight except that I managed to wreck my brand new glue gun. You can look forward (?!) to that story when I post pics of the finished object. Suffice to say it will be something along the lines of this when finished – perhaps a tad shorter as I am really not all that tall and I don’t know that this would suit JJ.

In my travels today I also acquired a felt hat form. Stay tuned for whatever is in store for it!

But wait! What’s that in front of the head mannequin?
.

The comb JJ gave me, and a tube of crazy glue!

Oops.

Never on Sunday…(and candy – real and surreal)

…go to the Forest Hill Loblaws. A nightmare. Busier than Christmas Eve! And why advertise two day specials which you then don’t have, and try to fob me off with overpriced substitutes?!?!? Enough said about that. I did acquire some maple fudge and fake-o Toblerone which is better than the real thing (called Alpine!) so all was not lost.

And at least I still have the poppy I shelled out $5 for (because I felt for the veteran with the poppy box – a man who likely fought in the Second World War – consigned to standing all day in the Loblaws from hell getting run over by frantic shopping cart drivers operating cell phones and Blackberries at the same time ). The fact that it is still on my jacket constitutes a personal record for longevity of poppies in the Brouhaha universe.

KB’s Energizer Poppy (lasts a long, long time)

My poppy, by the way, stands for both remembrance and peace, in case anyone cares.

Speaking of poppies, or red, I’d like to digress to show you a little chapeau I acquired earlier this week at Brava (vintage place up the street from work).

Don’t I look like a “lady who lunches”?

Oh – maybe not with the diet coke bottle in hand. Let’s try again, shall we?

That’s better.

Where was I?! Oh, yeah. Today’s trek was also highly worthwhile as I stopped in at the Goodwill before hitting the grocery store. I finally left Goodwill – nine neckties, two tops and a fancy set of beads later, all for under $30!

I’m particularly proud of the beads. They were sitting at the till and I was cursing the person in front of me whom I thought had scored them. However, when it was my turn to pay they were still there. I grabbed them – the lady at the till then told me that ten people had refused them because they were “too expensive” at $5 and that a few of them had tried to haggle. Chickenheads.

Then I came home and recommenced work on my latest mosaic, which started off like this:

Then ended up looking like this:

I then had to grout it. I really dislike black grout. For some reason with me it always ends up with the consistency of tar, and about as hard to shift (man, what is all that tar doing to my lungs anyway? SIGH). So, here it is after the grouting:

What a mess, eh? But (drumroll, please) voila the finished product:


I’m calling it Liquorice Allsorts . One day, I will actually do a mosaic with real liquorice allsorts – they are probably harder to chew than the plate pieces I used today, anyway!

Please note the very la-di-dah features:

(a) Actual gold content!

(b) Hallmark from an exotic place!


And finally, another detail shot:

All this, too, can be yours – after a trip to the Goodwill:

(Not to mention the spot where large items are disposed behind my building!)

And – JJ actually likes it! And – he suggested painting the rest of the unit yellow! I think I may be converting him to crazy coloured craftdom… heh heh. Who’s the Voice of Evil now, Holly?!

I should note that this is my first project for the Crafting 365 Flickr group (which I found about on “Handmade Originals – thanks, Frances! I’ve put a little list into the left sidebar of this blog to track my progress. The link to the Flickr page is there if others are interested.

I am still knitting as well – work progressed apace yesterday on the argyle blankie as well… I hope to have the FO very soon (I keep saying that, don’t I?)

Happy Guy Fawkes Day!