This piece of fabric did it's own way, hard headed like myself, it became quite something else than originally intended.
The movie I saw on an airplane after the book I red in India. I liked both. My husband did not. But my imagination is big and I love to escape in my own world, so it fitted me. The same with this pillow, this little write up is about the life of this Pi(llow). … Continue reading The life of Pi(llow)
Living the simple life, far off and working the land hard needs to be counterbalanced. What's better than a tour by own powered strenght and... embroidery. Here, 'Fabricated forest' was made.
Once settled I thought I’d have no stories to tell about the embroidered pieces of fabric. Well, I do. Not traveling does not mean that nothing happens. Yet, this story behind this pouch is rather sad. This piece of fabric, dyed with black walnut, and stitched with a Japanese kogin pattern was meant to try … Continue reading Leah & Judah
The places to be creative are best when outside, even when the cold starts to set in (but a fire is a must!)
The absolute favorite ride of my 5 years cycling through 45 countries was the Atacama desert in Chile.
I am going back in time with this story: being at the end of my 5 year cycling trip, in 2019. I was tired. I needed a stop from cycling and constant moving. I did not know that the farm I halted would bring me a husband. This post is also about a piece of … Continue reading Work-Away at a Paraguayan farm
Thoughts and things of what comes forth from the moments between action and adventures.
Sweltering sweaty days and equal nights where the temperature hovered between 35 and 43 degrees were not the best circumstances to sleep in fully equipped but a very warm room with rickety air-condition. Our friend Marilyn offered us the room at the side of her neatly brick build house for no costs and to keep … Continue reading Pouch Filadelfia
A certain technique, a certain stitch, a certain weirdness about the time we were in (read Covid) was what it took to get this pouch done (even quickly so). My husband and I were so-called hobo’s, vagabonds, homeless. Our dwellings were in the woods of Florida. Our neighborhood consisted of a Health Park for the … Continue reading Pouch Willhopper Road