cloth.paper.string

this weekend...

... the invites were gocco'ed, assembled, addressed and stamped (with postage, and too, a tiny stamp carved by me);


...ugly apples from the neighbor's tree were sauced and pie-d;

...a sweater was finished. 

A feverish child was cuddled.  A new cook book was discovered.  The post office line was conquered.  Spiced biscotti were twice-baked.  Jerusalem artichokes were tried (and liked).  Really Rosie was rediscovered.  

And a photo was selected for the Shutter Sisters' Daily Click (so many thanks, sisters!!).

A full weekend, indeed.  I hope yours was restful and rich.

forward

Every now and then I steal away to my attic.  I bring out my gocco printer and paper, or bookcloth, and I pull prints.  There's something relaxing about the repetition.  About the making of many.  There's something satisfying about an orderly stack of notecards.  About the transfer of images from my natural environment onto the page, onto cloth.  Time passes, almost unnoticed. I know this is good for me.

Since I've been finding such peace in the making, and since I'm a girl who needs an assignment, I've decided to open a little shop over on etsy.  If you've tracked the gocco swaps, you'll see some familiar items.  And you'll see some new stuff as well, including hardcover journals with gocco printed bookcloth covers.

The cottonwood leaf screen is one that was retired - ahem, ripped - in the last print run.  There are three limited edition journals and a stack of cottonwood cards in the shop.  A portion of sales from items printed with this botanical rubbing will be donated to the Cottonwood Foundation, an all-volunteer organization that makes small, but significant donations to grassroots groups around the world protecting the environment, empowering people and promoting cultural diversity.  It seems fitting in many ways.

And in other sharing news, I paid it forward, finally.  I sewed up a batch of charlie bags -- three choclate brown linen bags with repurposed cotton lining, one greyish denim one with yellow seersucker lining.  I then paired them up with some gocco'ed cards, and sent them out.  Nine months late.  Many thanks to Marnie, Grace, Kate and Lisa for being so very patient. 

local flavors

We tasted summer this weekend.  On Saturday we traveled to La Finca, our CSA farm, for their spring pancake and planting celebration.  I'm amazed at how much will happen there in the coming weeks.  Some of the fields were planted, many of the beds covered with a thin orange fabric that keeps small plants warm and reminds me of the saffron robes of monks.

The greenhouse was loaded with starts awaiting transplant.  The planting of squash was planned for the visitors, but a frost advisory kept the tender plants in the greenhouse for at least another night and kept the dirt out from under my nails.

On the way home we passed by Brown's Shorthorns, the farm from which we've purchased all of the beef we've eaten in the past two years.  We met Edgar, the timeless midwestern cowboy, on the road and stopped to talk about the animals he was finishing in the coming months.  He mentioned a  twin who didn't get her "fair share of the groceries" from the start and was therefore petite by shorthorn standards, and would offered at a discount to someone looking primarily for ground beef.  I like knowing the people who are growing and raising my food, and too hearing the stories behind the bringing of food to our table.

We returned home in time to cover the tomatoes in the community garden plot and harvest more of the frost-hardy greens.  We dug one of Edgar's roasts out of the freezer, sliced it up, marinated it in some siracha, sesame oil and sugar and put it in the dehydrator to make beef jerky for our upcoming canoe camping trip.  

I made a rhubarb pie using pink stalks grown in Wisconsin and sold at our local food co-op.

And, I signed us up for One Local Summer this year.  We'll be eating at least one meal each week that is made from local ingredients, and will be sharing it here and with other challenge participants.  I look forward to savoring the season.  The weekend tells me we're ready.

from seed

I snipped young green chives from the small herb garden outside the kitchen door last night and sprinkled them over a salad of tender baby arugula from a nearby farm.  The first taste of fresh and local for the season.

Around the block the spring greens we planted in the community garden are pushing up.  Mizuna, arugula, tat soi and a mix of baby lettuces.

Here at the beginning of our growing season, I look forward.  To growing more of our own - greens, cucumbers, tomatoes, herbs.  To procuring more directly from area farm families - vegetables, fruits, eggs, beef, chicken, lake trout.  To gathering from the woods - mushrooms, ramps, berries. 

Here at the beginning of the growing season, I also look back.  To the near empty shelves of last year's preserving efforts.  To last year's harvest and the work that went into it.  

I'm looking back this week too, because a photo I made at a harvest celebration last fall is featured in the upcoming issue of YES! Magazine.  It's an honor to have my image selected for inclusion in this excellent publication, and too to have our beloved CSA farm featured in this way.

one : gocco swap

Last weekend I walked along the Mississippi River under majestic cottonwood trees.  Their branches were dappled with soft green leaves just starting to bud out.  The ground beneath my feet was blanketed by the crunching skeletal remains of last season's leaves.  I couldn't not think of the cottonwood leaf I picked up from the banks of that river almost four years ago which became one of my first gocco prints. 

Of course it got me thinking of printing.  And hosting yet another swap.  I'm resisting that deeply entrenched habit I have to over-think everything, and am instead jumping right in.  So, won't you join me for another gocco swap?

The only parameter I'm tossing out for the swap is one.  One image.  One word.  One screen (they are so very precious now, after all).  Feel free to take it wherever you want from there.  Print a single print, a small set of notecards, bookplates, stamps, stickers, a notebook, a fabric printed something-or-other, or anything else that suits your gocco fancy.  Send one of your creations out to each of your swapmates (you'll be swapping with 10-12 folks from around the world).  Receive a gocco-ed creation from each of your swapmates.

The swap is open to anyone, anywhere with a blog and/or flickr account and access to a gocco screen printer.

The sign-up deadline is May 26th.  Sign up by sending me an email at clothpaperstring AT gmail DOT com with the subject Gocco Swap - be sure to include your name, mailing address and a link to your blog and/or Flickr account.   I'll send out your list of swapmates later that week (you'll have 10-12 who you'll be committing to sending your gocco-ed bits out to).

The swap is open to anyone, anywhere with a blog and/or flickr account and access to a gocco printer.

Mail your gocco'd bits to swapmates on or before June 19th.  Don't forget to take photos of your creations and post them to the one : gocco swap flickr group. 

And, feel free to spread the word.  You can cut and paste the HTML in the box to add a button to your blog or sidebar:   

<a href="http://clothpaperstring.typepad.com/clothpaperstring/2009/05/one-gocco-swap.html"><img src="http://clothpaperstring.typepad.com/clothpaperstring/onegocco.jpg" border="0"/></a>

Happy gocco-ing!

And, if you're scratching your head, wondering what all this gocco-business is about, you can see examples here, learn more here and get in on discussions about it here. 

puzzling piecework

I've always been drawn to logic games.  When I saw the puzzle ball in Joelle's patchwork book I knew I would make it someday.  When the idea of gathering together and sending Grace a package of goodies for her babe was tossed around the virtual neighborhood, I knew the day had come.

And so, I cut and pieced and stuffed and pinned.  And then I puzzled.  But not about the piecing together of the wedges of the ball.  It was the stitches that held them together that completely eluded me.  Since I tend to make it up as I go if I can't decipher the instructions (or don't want to follow them), I ended up stitching an asterisk of sorts where the pieces joined.  It's a bit wonky, but it works.  And I'm thinking that sweet Fiona won't mind a little wonk in her puzzle ball.  More to puzzle over, right?

greens inside

This time of year there isn't much green in the natural landscape.  The grass that has started peeking out from under the snow on southern exposures is brown.  Crocus and daffodil shoots aren't expected for weeks and weeks.  Even the evergreens look more black than green as they have hardened themselves off to the winter.  Luckily it's a different story inside.

ripened green

For the holidays my sister sent us a promise that, come harvest, a box of organic avocados from her part of the world would be delivered to our home.  It arrived a few weeks ago, a USPS box filled with newspaper-wrapped rock-hard fruits.  I popped a few into a paper bag with an apple.  I put a few more in a warmish spot in our pantry.  The rest went into a bowl in the basement.  I hoped to stagger the ripening so that I could spread the enjoyment over the course of a few weeks.

We ate the first one of Friday.  It was fantastic and hands-down the freshest avocado I've ever eaten.  It made me forget about the new snow outside. 

I have a hunch that everything in the days ahead will be topped with slices of green-edged buttery goodness or slathered with guacamole.  Just in time for Emily's green week, though I promise to capture more than the greens I make with these avocados.  I am wondering, how do you like your avocado?

winter's beach glass

The big lake doesn't have discernable tides, but it is forever changing.  The ongoing tussle between freeze and thaw in winter makes for some amazing scenery.  I brought the snowshoes for my walk along the point today, but most of the snow had been blown away.  I wore them anyway, using their sharp metal teeth as crampons so I could climb on the mounds of ice and get a little closer to the place where the liquid and solid meet.

Along the frozen shore, chunks and shards of ice were softened and tempered by the sun.  They sparkled.

Another sparkly thing for me today is that I'm one of this month's guests here.  To say that I'm thrilled to be a part of this exciting project is an understatement.  Emily and Molly sure know how to throw a party.

quiet yellow

Queit light in a quiet corner of a quiet restaurant with a good friend. 

It was the perfect week to find and capture yellow.  I needed it more than I imagined.  So many thanks, Erin.