new and news

oh, yes. there are some new pieces due in the shop (very) soon. i am always excited when there is a fox on the work table. unfortunately, it seems i have been too busy to get to my favorite pieces lately. this is sort of an uncomfortable topic to talk about, but as this "busyness" is to be happening more and more often, it seems the idea that's been dwelling in the back of my mind and growing day by day must be put upon the table.prices. i haven't changed them much in the last five years, but my work has changed quite a bit. (i've never even charged extra for custom work, which is obviously just a bit silly.) deep inside, i am so honored and grateful that so many of you have chosen to buy an oh, albatross handmade piece for your home or for a loved one, that i tend to forget about the value of my own time and process. after many late nights of bloodshot eyes and aching fingers, as well as a nagging unrest in the back of my mind... yes dears, prices will be going up a bit.but there's a shiny little glimmer of good news... the new prices will include free domestic shipping (and a much-reduced international rate). and, as a wee gifty to my return customers (because i think you're amazing, and i am so, so thankful for you), send me a convo for 15% off your next handmade piece.

in semi-related news... a pierrot bear!! i've been thinking about him for ages and i couldn't be happier about how he turned out with his antique baubles and matelasse cap. in semi-unrelated news... i spotted a fox in our front yard yesterday! i had no hope of ever seeing one, because i didn't think they lived in this area at all. and yet, there he was... red and black and clever as can be. FOX!

okay, enough rambling from me. i'm off to pop these wee brethren in the shop. remember... hit me up for your discount!

xo. r

the self in self-employed

it has been a crazy month and work is taking over more than usual. early mornings, late nights, and all the hours in between. the thing about working for yourself is you never know when to stop. chances are, you love what you do, which makes it all too easy to drown yourself in it. and on the practical side of things, if it's all you, you can't even hope someone else will pick up the slack if you just sort of drift off for a bit. and after awhile, you start to feel the burnout creeping up on you. little fingers of long sighs and a sort of weight in your movements. at the same time, you may still feel the heart monitor spike of ideas and excitement. there is so much that could be done, if the time and energy resources to do it were limitless.

and then you realize, that for the past month, it has been all work. even the moments of play have been work related. the way you used to get to come home from work and shed it all like a winter coat, that's not really going to happen anymore. but perhaps, you have have become a bit too one-track and forgotten the self in self-employed.

i'm trying. i'm trying by play and experimentation. (namely with a little lap loom and a lot of mistakes.) i'm trying by allowing myself the hours needed to repot all the plants that have tripled in size since we moved. (i think they like the light as much as i do.) i'm trying by putting down my work to spend some time on the yoga mat. (this one is hardest of all, and probably the most important.)

advice i once gave to someone i love: be as kind to yourself as you are to others. advice i probably should have given myself. we really must let the well refill, don't you think?

xo. r

on irritation and impermanence

the first thing i was going to tell you is that i read a lot of children's books. fantasy, fiction, or however you want to categorize them. then i wanted to tell you that they aren't really children's books. the way alice in wonderland is not really a children's book. i fully intended to try to get this point across eloquently and succinctly, but tolkien (along with sendak and gaiman) has already said the words that need to be said regarding this subject. read here.

i wanted to share a brilliant little nugget on dealing with life's little irritations (those irksome, itchy little things that can throw off your whole day) from one of my favorite authors, diana wynne jones. (if you are not familiar with her, please get familiar. howl's moving castle is a good place to start.)

his car has driven off the road. its front wheel is sunk in the mud. this is not an extraordinary or fantastical situation. it is life. plain, old, non-fiction life. what happens next is still not fantasy. but there is magic in it, i think.

"he thought that the position of the wheel in the ditch was only a temporary and relative fact, untrue five minutes ago and untrue five minutes from now."

it is an idea that gets me through traffic jams, spilled milk, at&t's "customer service" and life's other little unpleasantries. irritation is largely impermanent. (i should probably write this on the back of my hand before attempting any kind of holiday shopping.) wishing you peace, my darlings.

xo. r

time is not

on sunday, between points a and b, i drove past the movie theater. i do not frequent movie theaters terribly often due to a strong preference to lie on my back under a blanket during a movie and also to pause the movie when i need to pee or talk… all of which are discouraged in movie theaters. but i had a memory of a time when sunday afternoons were slow and needed filling. there was so much time, one had to find something to do with it. hence the sunday matinee. it's main purpose was not to take in a film so much as to take up the hours.

it's been a long time since i had hours that needed taking up. i suspect i lose them in small minutes. a few minutes wasted in certain corners of the internet. another few (not) wasted on little cuddles with the pups. leaking pinholes of time. but never a gaping sinkhole of available time to fill at one's leisure.

just yesterday i told patrick i think i would like to have a cold so i could take a day off. he suggested that i just take a day off. but i can't. i don't remember how to sit still. if i was sick, i could maybe just lie down for a few hours and float in the time. i am (unfortunately?) quite healthy. but i'm starting to think i have a pretty unhealthy relationship with time.

but see here… i have a growing to do list (we are most certainly measured by the length of our to do lists, are we not?) and i willfully paused to write these things down. taking time to talk about time. taking a deep breath to wonder why i can no longer pause to just sit and breathe. (even yoga… that ultimate mind-body-inner-peace-retreat has become just one more thing to tick off the to do list.)

which means the remedy is not a thing. but a thought. or rather a changing of thought. but of course, these things take time.

xo. r

un. deux. trois.

un: just how is it the month of august already? time's gone all wibbly wobbly on me and i no longer remember what point of the year we're in or even what point of the week. i'm fairly good at mondays, but after that it's all a guessing game. i'd blame this on an unnatural immersion in solitary work, but the truth is, i was losing my grip on time when i was still semi-unhermited and working in an office environment.

deux: it's amazing how much better a hair cut will make you feel about yourself, no? i'd let my bangs lapse into a near sheepdog state and thus had been rocking a sort of hedgehog mess of pins and ponytails for the last month or so. i finally rectified this yesterday with a cut and coif and my-oh-my do i feel fine today. (additionally, there is nothing like the first shampoo after a hair cut. it's like washing an entirely different head. novel!)

trois: new! mobiles! not just for little ones! why should babies get all the pretty things to look at? these have been hanging in my bedroom for the last week and they make me smile every time i walk into the room. also, quite nice to have a little lie in on a sunny morning and watch them dance around. sure, let the babies look at them, but put them somewhere you can enjoy too. (they're in the shop now! images linked.)

have a wonderful august, please. that last summer hurrah with sneaky adventures tucked in every spare moment. even if that adventure looks suspiciously like an afternoon snooze in a hammock.

xo. r

obayashi

director nobuhiko obayashi. my heart just got so much bigger.

howl and dream

the wind is racking these old plaster walls.

the sky is bright and veiled and grey. my mind seems to be the same.

embracing the drift feels like the only way to go right now.

filter, filter, howl and dream.

xo. r

a toast to saint valentine

there is nothing so powerful as the hope that someone may see you as you truly are and love you in spite of it.

take care with your arrows and your fragile, beating hearts.

love makes us strong. love leaves us weak. it takes us apart and makes us new.

have no fear. love like a crashing wave. untamed & free.

a toast to saint valentine.

xo. r

2013

1.  2.  3.  4.  5.

the new year is upon us,

bearing its sweet fruit of hope and possibility.

i have not made resolutions so much as intentions.

here they are in black and white.

(and as my truly glamourous life goes,

my unofficial new year's eve day tradition is to clean the house.

nothing says fresh start like clean sheets and sparkling mirrors.)

wishing you all the very best for the new year.

xo. r

friday fuzzy

we're at the tail end of the great midwestern blizzard

and we've had our first dabblings of snow. (exciting stuff, these little white crystals.)

the blizzard also changed our plans for traveling up north to see family.

rather than plow through the foot of snow dumped in northern michigan,

we'll just wait for the plow trucks to do it and try again in a week or two.

pioneer spirit, y'alls.

the internet seems to be wrapping up for the holidays and i think, so will i.

back to my books and quilts and sewing.

the stillness of sleeping dogs and twinkle lights at night.

have a wonderful holiday.

find the magic. find the wonder.

find the love.

xo. r

uh-merica

in the spirit of election day, i've added these vintage souvenir flag collections to the shop.

something to proudly fly on your desk or bookshelf.

i'd like to write more here... something about the winding and inglorious path of american history, something about the incredible fact that we have a right to our opinions and votes (which is by no means a given in other parts of the world), something about how we should consider ourselves one nation, and not see ourselves divided by republican/democrat, prochoice/prolife or rights based on sexual orientation. but the vile nature of most political advertising & propaganda is weighing on me and i don't wish to bring that negativity here.

so wave a flag for america. we've come a long way. and we have a long way to go.

it'd be nice to do it together and not squabbling the whole way.

xo. r

friday fuzzy

meet lucky little fox.
i came across the first photo of lucky on fox in the pine.
which led me to a new blog, longest acres.
it's the story of a young couple, and a million animals, learning to farm in the hills of vermont.
it's honest and forthright and funny and true. (and sometimes sad.)
also, did i mention there were a million animals?

i have been gravitating towards more personal blogs lately.
the more style & design blogs i see, the more i feel buried under a mountain of cool.
but when i can peek into a real life, and feel a bit of kinship (bonus points for a cute animal too)
i feel inspired, and awake and excited to know there are such people in the world.
i feel like jumping on my bike and riding as fast as i can down the middle of the street.
i feel like being.

xo. r

just like heaven

i came around the corner and this was happening.

girls have to hang together you know.

bump is still recovering from a bee sting and i hope her wee face doesn't scar.

there is something very hard about having an old and unsteady dog.

if she's been asleep for awhile, i'll stop to check if she's still breathing.

just a sad reality, i'm sure some of you have faced this too.

fall is creeping in - open windows, cool nights and covers pulled up tight.

but today feels like summer is trying to get in one last hurrah.

it's been a funny summer.

we didn't go out for ice cream at all, and i put on a bathing suit exactly once.

so i treated myself to something i stoically refrained from all summer...

a big, fluffy, sweet icy frappuccino.

i'm ready for fall now. bring on the apple cider.

something about today reminds me of this song.

the watson twins bring something deliciously new to an old favorite.

(forgive the different music players please, i'm experimenting.)

xo. r

defining space

patrick has had the worst of a summer cold
but on sunday he was up to visiting the house.
so we went for a drive, with the dogs in tow.
they love to run around the grounds, paw through the mud and splash in the pond.

and we walked through the house.
room to room, trying to imagine a future there.

what i find truly challenging is to understand the space.
the huge living room, roughly defined by walls and voids where windows will be,
seems small when your eyes travel to the woods beyond.

the bedrooms upstairs seem positively tiny. surrounded by walls. a little framed maze.
until i measure and compare with the rooms in our current home.

i am told that this space-perception thing will change again and again.
when the windows go in, when the drywall goes up. when the furniture moves in.

it gives me pause to realize,
we are defined more by perception than reality.

xo. r

it's a trap

aww hell... i had myself a good old hand-wringer of a worrying night.
mostly over a bill that may or may not have been unpaid. which was hard to say really,
from my cocoon of worry.

the solution was simple. sleep the night. wake up in the morning. look at bill.
it's either been paid or it gets paid. nothing to fuss about.

but one can not just sleep through that. to approach this problem properly,
one must wake up multiple times in the night and toss and turn and kick and fret.
lots of lovely fretting.

trying to get my morning back on track. working through the hot coffee.
and a nice long hot and scrubby shower is on deck next.
then, perhaps i'll find something more sensible to worry about...
like the fact that i'm rivaling my mother for gold-medal worrying champion.

crap.

xo. r

five

five things // sky high

i had planned so much for this week...

but life and mother nature have a way of conspiring against me.

to what end? the air is heavy with rain, the sky is rolling shades of dark and darker.

and while a big part of me is quite thankful (i didn't actually intend to be cultivating a field of straw for a front yard) i really did need a bit of sunshine this week.

light, you know. it makes photography work.

so there will most likely be no shop update this week.

instead, you will be treated to pictures of moons. because that is what i've been collecting lately.

i read that it's hard-wired into girls to collect things. a throw back to the hunter-gatherer days.

girls gathered then. and girls gather now.

i am gathering moons to keep my family alive.

you have to love biology.

i hope whatever weather you need is coming your way.

and i hope you still remember to look at the moon.

don't let life get in the way of that.

xo. r

long weekend

slowly coming back from the long weekend,
like slowly opening your eyelids on a sunny morning still nestled in the dream of your bed,
mulling over the things which wait in the week ahead.

i find it terribly gratifying that the internet gets so slow and silent over the holidays.
we all drift away from this never-ending glut of image and information.
and we find ourselves back where we began...
in the real world, with real people and real life.

it's good to know we're not just here, in this internet space.
it's nice to shed its weight sometimes
and just watch life happen around us.

i found myself killing an hour at a local lake this weekend. michigan lake culture always makes my heart feel like it's come home again. and people watching the crush of bodies all drawn to the water... it's a treat, somehow.

hope you had a wonderful holiday weekend. real life and all.

xo. r

miracle

my yoga teacher says it's impossible to take slow, deep breaths and feel anxious at the same time.
i must be a miracle.

xo. r

( resolved )

d. velasquez

i'm not a very big believer in new year's resolutions,

but they seem to happen despite my best efforts.

something about the hope & orderliness of a new year, i think.

this year, i'd like to wake up earlier.

i've always wished to be a morning person.

and while truthfully, i'm a night owl, i seem to be falling asleep a lot earlier these days.

so perhaps it's time to explore the other side of daybreak

and get up with the rowdy rooster.

of course, coffee helps.

and a hot shower too.

also, you may have noticed that this blog now lives at everyeskimo.com

a small but frustrating feat, i bumbled through on my own.

i think i succeeded. please let me know if you find otherwise.

xo. r

( checked out )

i can't seem to get the hang of this week.

i feel a bit foggy and rather blank.

i do hope next week is better, more in focus.

do you have weeks like that?

like your head is just a sieve and everything is flowing through

and pouring right back out the tiny holes?

i don't know what this image is.

it's odd. and frail. it might just melt away in your hands.

from an ambitious project collapsing

 those words make sense to me today.

xo. r