Out in front, behind the scenes.

Six. That's how many blog entries I wrote last year. It's an all time low. Let's see if I can do a little better this year. It's not that I wasn't doing anything blog-worthy. In fact, 2013 will go down in my mind as one of my better years, though there's little evidence of this on my blog. This year I learned that sometimes it's best to work behind the scenes.

In years past, this blog has traced the evolution of kokoleo - essentially, the things I make and sometimes sell online or in shops or at craft shows. I used to spend hours putting together detailed step-by-step tutorials in the hopes they would get featured on the well-known D.I.Y. websites or reblogged with a link and shoutout by some better-known crafter. These were the little victories  cherished in my effort to "build my brand", though they were rarely lucrative. More often than not, I was ripped off by people (some who I thought were friends in the craft community) with the same goal - to get featured, reblogged, recognized, published, etc. It's disheartening to see something you shared slightly repackaged by a fellow crafter or worse, reprinted word for word on a for-profit site with no credit given. It was enough to make me second guess sharing my ideas in the first place. So I stopped. Consequently my blog became barren and boring and "building my brand" got put on the back burner.

 As many hours as I used to spend crafting my online presence, in 2013 I spent it carving out a place for myself in my immediate community. I became the PTO secretary at my kids school and helped pull off a 30-act talent show. I taught a Mother Goose preschool class and Nature craft camp at the community center. I joined my Homeowners Association board and designed a neighborhood newsletter. I started attending city forums and neighborhood planning meetings and began to speak up for things I thought would benefit my neighborhood. I met repeatedly with city officials and developed a financially sustainable business model - a fee based program where the teacher (me) earns a living wage and the city shares in the profits - to convert an abandoned city building into a successful after school program - Club Teasdale. Four months into the program, and we're still going strong. There was a story about us in the newspaper and we were featured, along with the mayor, on the cover of the city services guide that goes out to every household in the city.

All this means little to anyone outside our city. There are no blog badges, page hits, or number of "likes" I can look to for validity. This is what life must have been like before the internet, when the impact you made among your neighbors was all that mattered. What a novel concept!

Things that are good. . .

My last few posts make it seem like I'm completely and unusually obsessed with fabric. I may be, but I have other things in my life that make me happy too. Here are a few.

#1 - All my life I always said when I grew up I wanted to have a boy and a girl and a dog and a cat and a house. Not a day goes by when I don't think, now I have everything I ever wanted. It's funny how I still find more to want though. Not kids or pets or houses this time, but good things to happen to the ones I have.

#2 - My husband is my best friend. It's a good thing too because we've been through a lot together these last 12 years. I look forward to Saturday nights in the garage when the kids are both in bed and it's just us two playing darts. We somehow never run out of things to talk about. Yet we can also hang out for hours working on our own things and never saying a word. That's fine too. He's interesting to have around.

#3 - Sage can read. I mean really read, with inflection and comprehension and everything. I think a big reason is all the signs signs everywhere the signs in our neighborhood and everywhere we go. Even the mountain has great big letters on it. It warms my heart to see him read to his sister and warms my heart even more to see how she looks at him when he reads to her. She thinks he's hilarious.

#4 - I have a studio. A space of my own to make things. When I start to complain about my lack of wall space/closets/shelves/outlets, I remind myself that I'm lucky to have my own room and I should make the most of it. I've moved almost everything into my new back porch studio and I think I'm going to love it better than my last one. Good lighting can make a world of difference.

#5 - I am happy, and only a little lonely. It's hard sometimes being so far away from family and our friends. I miss being part of a community like we were in when we lived in Shepherdstown. Living in L.A., it's not easy being a little fish in an ocean full of famous fish and young beautiful fish and fish who speak other languages. My fishbowl is my home where I'm raising my kids and making stuff. Every now and then I send out little snippets of the goings on in this house in the form of blog posts, photos, pillows, etc. - my messages in a bottle to the outside world. If I didn't have this outlet (literally, this plug in the wall) keeping me connected, I might be sad. But I'm not. I'm excited to see what will happen next and I'm happy to have someone - my boy, girl, dog, cat, husband and you - with whom to share it.

I did it!

I did what I challenged myself to do. During the month of October I wrote a blog post every day. That's more blog posts than I wrote in the preceding 4 months combined. It was fun! But now I'm done.

No, not done blogging. Heck, I may even keep writing every day. But if I miss a day, so be it. No pressure. Stop pressuring me! Oh wait, I was doing it to myself.

So why did I do it? One reason was to bring a little life to my poor four-posts-a-month blog. Another reason was to give our family and friends back east a chance to see pictures of our life out west. Probably the most important reason though was to exercise my brain by forcing it to write something every day. I have to put that English degree to use! Not that I think I was writing little masterpieces or anything. It was more the practice, or the process of writing that I needed. Being out of the workaday world and having needy young ones as my only audience is hard. Kokoleo and a patchwork world are what keep me from losing my mind.

What did our foremothers do? They had no blogs to read, no Flickr pictures to peruse, no online shops to set up, not to mention all the other modern conveniences we enjoy. We have it easy, really. Though at times those things can be a distraction.

(insert inner dialogue)

I need to update my website more often so I don't start losing traffic. . . I need new marketable products. . . I need to make something to show everyone on Monday. . . All these other blogs make me feel inadequate. . . My house is too messy to photograph. . . It's hard to type and nurse a baby at the same time. . . Please just leave mama alone for one minute so I can blog about how cute you are. . . Is anyone even reading this?

Sometimes I have to tell myself - Stop. Step away from the computer. Go outside. Don't even take your camera. Just be.

and blog about it later.

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

I'm almost 33, you'd think I have it figured out by now, but I've never really had the time to settle into a career. I keep taking breaks to do things like have a baby and move across country and have another baby and sew. When someone asks me what I do for a living I never really know how to answer. Um, I make monsters and pillows? The term "stay at home mom" bugs me because it's not who I am. I mean, I am, but I also do other things, even if it's just within the confines of my house.

I wonder if I'll always have kokoleo. I don't think there will ever be time when I don't want to sew, but I wonder if there will come a time when I stop it as a business. I've got so much inventory it's ridiculous - monsters, kid clothes, pillows, stuff made with chopped up ties, humongous purses. Why do I make all this stuff? Are people even going to want these weird things? Maybe I should just get a real job and sew for myself. I could finally get around to making those curtains for the computer room and reupholstering our dining room chairs.

The problem is, I don't really know what it is I want to do. Teach again? I could. I love it, really. I did it for 6 years and I've heard from kids and principals that I'm pretty good at it. Plus, the schedule is great when you have kids. Maybe I could get into a nice private school in the area and Sage and McKenna could get their education for free. That would be worth it.

But, I need to get my California credential to teach legit and I just don't feel like jumping through those hoops right now.

Maybe I could get an editing job at Yahoo? I saw an ad on Craigslist for it. I pass the giant Yahoo complex every day on my way to take Sage to kindergarten. I'd be close to home and it might be fun to dress up and look respectable. I did that kind of work at the Martinsburg Journal before Sage was born. I like reading and fixing stuff and my HTML skills are decent.

But, I think I'd go nuts in a cubical, and I'd constantly be wondering what my kids were up to.

My dream job is to work on a show like Sesame Street or Robot Chicken just making random props and puppets and costumes. This is definitely the town to do it in.

But then there's the problem of "breaking in to the industry" which I'd need to tackle. Plus, I hear the hours can be crazy which isn't really conducive to family time. We need to have at least one parent around enough to keep our kids out of trouble.

When I was a kid I used to say that I wanted to grow up and write children's books. I could do that. I should do that. But I never get around to it. I should put that on my To Do list.

Let's see, I used to be a white water raft guide in West Virginia. Maybe I could do that again? Um, no. The L.A. river is not that kind of river. Nix that idea.

Open my own shop? That might be cool. I would have a place to house all my inventory, maybe even sell some stuff, and support other handmade artisans as well. Everyone would love me for giving them a venue and I would finally feel like I belonged in L.A.. I'd be like the Valley version of Mayra from Monkeyhouse Toys. I love her. I kind of learned the ropes during my years at the Dragonfly in Shepherdstown and I would love to decorate a space of my own.

But, I also saw how hard it was to have a shop and have to be there every day. I don't think I could handle the responsibility right now with all the bills and liablity and also, the kids.

Man, kids mess everything up, don't they? I'm kidding! The truth is I love how having them has forced me to reinvent myself. I wouldn't have kokoleo if it weren't for Sage. I wonder what McKenna will inspire me to do.

There's really no need for me to be antsy. I keep telling myself that this is all I need to be doing right now - nursing, sitting, staring at my daughter, picking up my son from kindergarten, vacuuming up dog hair, going for walks, hanging around playgrounds, picking up Tinker Toys. I'm lucky to have this time. All I really need to do is cherish this moment. I'll have plenty of time to do other stuff, whatever it is, and everything will happen for a reason.

Made by Monday returns!

It's the first day of a new month and I have a plan. I'm going to try to post every day in October. Last month I only had 4 measly posts. Visiting a blog and finding a stale old post is like turning to a channel to watch your favorite t.v. show only to find that it's a rerun. BOR-ING. Abandoned blogs are the worst. Don't leave us hanging people! One day two years ago you were telling us what you had for dinner and then you were gone. What happened next? Come back and continue the story! I was reading that!

Heck, I'll probably abandon this blog someday as well. Who knows, maybe blogging will go out of style. How long can we keep it up? Are those of us who are writing now going to continue to blog into our elderly years, or will we all eventually cut the story short and stop writing for public consumption? It'll be interesting to see who keeps it up and who gives up. It is kinda hard sometimes to put ones life into words. It's even harder to do it authentically.

For now, I'm up for the challenge of posting every day. To keep me interested, I'm going to give myself assignments for each day of the week. It's something I've been thinking about for a while, and tried to do with my Made by Mondays before I slacked off (oh yeah, and had a baby). From now on, or at least through October, each day will have a theme which I will reveal throughout this week (I'm still figuring out what those themes will be.) Then, every week I'll return to those same themes in a new way. This probably makes no sense right now, but stick with me and you'll see what I mean.

So, Monday's theme is "Made by Monday" and um, I didn't make anything. But I made a plan! And that's something.

Caution: Graphic Content

I just have to move that picture in my last post down a bit. It's too nasty to be the first thing you see on my blog. So I will replace it with a nasty story about something that happened today and spare you any pictures.

It happens to every seamstress at least once. Unfortunately, I've had it happen a few times in my 15+ years of sewing. And today it happened again. The needle went through my finger. I was finishing the last letter on a personalized banner I've been working on and it all happened in a flash. I guess my middle finger slipped under the path of the needle. Instinctively I tried to jerk my hand away - BAD MOVE! I yanked the whole machine toward my face (I generally bend in really close when I'm sewing) and banged it into my upper lip and nose. Don't ask me how I managed to do that, all I know is that in the matter of about one second I was sitting there with my face throbbing and my machine askew, staring at my finger that was ATTACHED TO THE NEEDLE in the down position. I'm talking in-through-the-top-and-out-through-the-bottom ATTACHED. Luckily, I had the good sense to take my foot off the pedal. I sat there a few more seconds and knew what I had to do next. I slowly and carefully turned the hand wheel with my one free hand and lifted the needle out of my finger. I think it might have even squeaked a bit. Then laid down on the couch and passed out.

It's still throbbing and it's hard to type, but I think I'll live. Who knew sewing could be so dangerous?!

Just Another Manic Monday

I should have known today was going to be weird by the way it started. I overslept, and instead of taking a shower (don't worry, I had taken one the day before) I pulled my hair up into one of those clippy things, threw on some clothes, got Sage set up with breakfast (Erik takes him to school), and headed out the door. I stopped at 7-11 for a coffee (no pregnant-ladies-shouldn't-
drink-coffee lectures, please), oatmeal cookie, banana, and fruit bowl. Trying to balance it all, I spilled the coffee on the counter. "Rough morning?" the guy laughed. I'm glad he laughed.

I got to school on time. It was a good thing too because I ended up having to cover for the 2nd and 3rd grade classes whose teachers were out sick or on field trips. So I'm thrown into a room with 20-some kids and little direction. That's okay though. They don't scare me. The day even went relatively well. I don't talk about my days at school on my blog much because it seems like a conflict of interest, but this year has proven to me, more than ever, that I can handle just about anything.

One lingering problem though was my shirt. It must have been sitting damp in our lame dryer or something because all through the day I kept getting vague whiffs of mustiness. That, plus the occassional kid-fart, plus random wafts of unwashed kid-hair assaulted my senses all day. To top it off, I found some old milky coffee drink that I had left in my classroom last week and the little bit left at the bottom of the travel mug had turned RANCID. Rather than pour it out at school and make everyone else sick, I put it in my car to take it home for decontamination. Trouble is, on my way home, I went around a turn and it fell out of it's cup holder, spilling this chunky stuff that smelled like rotten vomit all over the passenger side carpet. The whole car reeked so much that on my way to pick up Sage at preschool I had to drive with all the windows down and my head out one of them gagging all the way. As soon as Sage got in the car he said, "Eww mom! What's that SMELL?!"

Aaaanyway, not all the fabric in my life smells bad, I swear. I make sure anything with a kokoleo tag attached is clean and fresh and ready to wear, I promise.

Here are a few things I made this week:

These are meant to go with my friend Andrea's valances that I made last week. They're a surprise though, so I hope she's not reading this.

I also made a few more tie cuffs and necklaces. At a yard sale this weekend, a lady gave me this rack for free:


And, because there's no rhyme or reason to the randomness of what I make, tonight I made these:

I held one up to show Erik and he looked at me rather puzzled and said, "So what is the statement you're trying to make with that?" I don't know! I haven't made many baby clothes lately and figured it was time to crank out a few. I have all sorts of ideas and intentions for some new sundresses, pants, hats, etc. So long as my belly doesn't grow to unusual proportions, I might even be able to make a few this summer. We'll see!

Spring Break 2007

It's spring break and I have the whole week off. Plus, Sage is in preschool so I can do things like clean a whole room and have it stay that way for more than a few hours. Yeah, I know, staying home and cleaning isn't most people's idea of a rockin' spring break, but I'm enjoying the alone time. So far I've straightened up the screened in back porch (and cleared away a few months worth of dust and dog hair accumulation), performed vacuum surgery, vacuumed the house, done a ton of laundry (and even put most of it away), dusted, organized a closet, and put many a random thing back where it belongs.

Trouble is, I'm a bit ADD when it comes to cleaning, I'll start with some big ambition to tackle a large area, but then spend a ridiculous amount of time on a particular detail, like, say, setting up a tiny world with our vintage Little People. . .




I don't know if this nostalgic installation is more for Sage or us, but it's fun to watch him play with the toys we once found so fascinating. I can't stand the new-fangled Little People with their unchokable chubby bodies and noisy plastic accessories. Also, would modern day Little People have their own liquor cabinet?


I think not.

a purse post

I'm a purse-watcher. There have been many times when I've gone out of my way to study the design of a stranger's purse, going so far as to follow the woman and take mental notes of the design components that make her purse attractive. Needless to say I've gotten a few strange looks from people who probably thought I was fixing to rob them or something. There's just something about a well-designed bag that intrigues me. In order for a bag to be perfect it has to have the right number of compartments, the right kind of strap and closure, the right color and fabric and the right amount of space for all your stuff. But then, what's "perfect" for one person just doesn't work for another. I think this is why so many women are addicted to handbags - they're always searching for that "perfect" one. Years ago a simple clutch would suffice for me. Nowadays I need one that will not only hold my wallet, keys, sunglasses, cell phone and business cards but also some juice boxes, crayons, matchbox cars and random rocks and leaves that Sage instructs me to keep forever.

A friend of mine once remarked that it was funny that I have a sewing room full of purses, yet don't carry around a kokoleo purse myself. I guess I consider the purses and bags I make to be more sculptural experiments than anything else. I may spend up to 5 hours working on one - adjusting the size and shape, testing out different pockets, straps and closures - and then when I'm finished I just set it on the shelf and look at it. When I go to buy a purse for myself I tend to go for interesting shapes and styles that I simply couldn't recreate. This week I sold one of my needlepoint owl purses (thank you Sarah!) and then went out and bought these for myself:



The beaded one reminds me of those massage-chair thingies. It's definitely not something I could ever do because I don't have A. the beads or B. the patience to put something like that together. The same goes for the "prison art" candy wrapper bag that I got at Out Of the Closet, a thrift store that benefits AIDS research. I love these type of bags and have another one I got off ebay years ago made from old cigarette packs. I have no idea if this one was actually made in a prison but it has no label so I suspect some lone crafty soul made with his or her own two hands. At about 60 bucks less than these Ecoist bags I'd been stalking, I just had to get it.

I went to the Melrose Ave. flea market this Saturday and got a Depression-era patchwork quit for 15 bucks. I may or may not some day work up the nerve to cut it up and turn it into baby dresses? skirts? purses? but for now I'm going to leave it as a lap quilt. I also got a couple framed needlepoint pieces. Recently I've been on a mission to rescue neglected and forgotten vintage needlepoint and give them new life in the form of purses - the ultimate portable art. I forgot to photograph this one in it's frame but last night I turned it into this:


It's big enough to hold a Saturday Evening Post or whatever else you need to tote around. The lining is a multi-colored cotton material and the inside pocket is lined with an American flag:

Happy Memorial Day!