emmie kay

neglecting myself, neglecting my blog

2010-03-03T09:51:00.000-08:00

It's been too long since I last posted. I can't say things have been crazy or that I've been too busy, but having no internet for two weeks did put a damper on blogging.

I have to admit that I haven't been taking the best care of myself lately. I am stuck in the all-too-common rut of college students everywhere: staying up late, waking up late, skipping breakfast, eating convenience foods, spending too much time on mindless entertainment. These are all things I strive not to be!

And then it hit me. A memory of waking up in a small, stone room with an antique window cracked open. Grainy, early-morning light and a chilly draft hitting my face, letting in the smell of woodsmoke and enticing me to get up-get up-get up and see what the day might bring. That was every morning in Lacoste, and how I miss it! I also stumbled back upon a favourite blog of mine today, Simply Breakfast. Seeing morning through another person's eyes, and the nourishing foods that start their day really inspires me.

Simple, whole and nutritous foods; simple and beautiful dishes; a dedication to living life authentically and completely. These are the rules that strike deep for me. Simplicity.

I did a fine art piece last year that involved inviting strangers to write down their heart's deepest desire anonymously on scraps of fabric. I then embroidered over their words, keeping their handwriting, while reflecting on their wishes. I secretly put my own into the pile: "to find peace in simplicity". It is hanging above my desk now.

To find peace in simplicity. From now on I'll remember it.

my mind must weigh at least 57 pounds

2010-02-04T16:09:00.000-08:00

Isn't it funny when you are feeling care-free and then something sparks your mind and makes you remember: there's no time to be so silly when there are so many things in the world to worry about! Tonight heavy on my mind is a story of houses and family history. Part one began about a year ago:

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I need to buy my great grandmother's house. She is 95 years old and in the nursing home--not doing well, with her mind finally slipping away from her. She still owns a house down the street from my aunt and uncle, that was built by her late husband's father (my great-great grandfather). It is one of the original homes in my town, built just before the turn of the century. It has never been out of my family, and we have an old photo of the house when it was brand new. Unfortunately, the house has fallen into disrepair because of lack of residence. There is quite a bit of termite damage to the foundation, no basement...the bones of the house seem to be sturdy, but the rest needs some work. It has all of its original features, although random family members have been going in and ransacking the place since Grandma was moved to the nursing home. It doesn't matter. I only want the home, not its contents. I am terrified that this property will be sold to an owner who will not see the value of the house, only its lot. There is a good chance the house itself will be demolished to build a new pre-fab ranch home on its lot, and my family's history, as well as my childhood memories, will be lost forever.

I want to buy the house and fix it. It's a sacrifice, I understand. But I've been saving my money for a long time now, feeling in my heart that I would need it for something important. I think this is the important thing.

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Part two arose tonight, spurred on by a from-the-blue message from an old friend who is currently in a similar situation:

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My great-grandma's house is still in the family. My great-uncles are taking their sweet time clearing everything out before it goes to market. That's fine with me, though!

Early this summer before it got hot, my grandma decided to make a trip to Grandma Bollmann's house--she's in a ladies' group and she wanted to find her old girl scout scrapbook to take to a meeting. The family went over and for the first time ever I got to see the upstairs of the house. It was incredible like you wouldn't believe. First of all, I understood why it's taking so long to get it to market. There is so much STUFF crammed up in the top. There are three small bedrooms under the eaves plus a hall at the top of the stairs that are all full to the brim with every kind of old thing you could imagine. There was a box of Grandma Bollmann's sewing patterns (ranging from early 40's to 70's), her button collection held in an old glass peanut butter jar...A box of letters that my Great Uncle Roy received in Vietnam (including one from my aunt when she was 10). There were my great uncles' boater hats from when they were kids...my great-grandpa's school books, all in German. There was a crate of old boots. A wedding cake topper from an uncle's first marriage. An old cigar box held all the papers from the last year of my great-great uncle's life, kept together by his mother and untouched since his death. The original wallpaper is still on the walls, and the wooden floors are still painted with imitation carpets. There is a velvet fainting couch in one room and a giant oak wardrobe from the "old country" in another.

I left for home that day with my heart both heavy and light. I felt so connected to this part of who I am, my blood and my history. And yet knowing that someday soon this will be gone, and the legacy of my ancestors will be forgotten, and the things they worked so hard to provide for future generations will be torn down by those very people...it weighed heavily on my mind, and it still does today.

There are so many things that I feel helpless about, and this is just one more of them. I want to save that house, but I cannot imagine living there forever. So maybe I buy it..."flip" it...sell it to another family member on the cheap to continue its lineage. And what if they don't appreciate it, either?

When do I stop taking on the responsibilities of an entire generation and admit defeat? I worry constantly about what will happen to my grandparents' property when they (god forbid) die. Their centennial farm will be what I fight for.

But the ache to save my great grandma's house is still there.

from the desk of an artistic genius

2010-02-02T11:19:00.000-08:00

A quick peak into my sketchbook...
...and a quick peak at my desk.

my own love story

2010-02-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

It's February, love month. Valentine's Day is fast approaching, and love stories are popping up all over the place. It's time that I shared mine.

I met Isaac when I was in high school. We were BEST friends from the day we met through a mutual friend (and we still are). You know the feeling when you meet somebody and you just mesh perfectly? That was us. We talked every day for three months until we shyly confessed our feelings for one another. I knew I was going to marry him from the get-go. The next day I got a postcard in the mail that said, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" and I took it as a sign (it was from the Red Cross if you want to know).

Fast-forward four years. Isaac and I are still together, still in love despite the obstacle of about 700 miles. This past July marked four years on the dot, and I was kind of expecting something special. Isaac made reservations at one of our favourite restaurants, but before we left, we took photos together in his parents' back yard (he's a photographer).

While taking a break from shooting, Isaac said to me, "It's been a great four years, hasn't it? I can't wait to see what the next bring us. Why don't we start today?" and followed in the age-old tradition of dropping to one knee and presenting a ring. I, of course, said yes. Then Isaac immediately took my picture, and I said, "You can't just do something like that and then take my picture!" Isaac had one of his dad's former jewelry students design and make my ring especially for me. Isn't that sweet?

So there you have it. I am engaged to a guy who I am convinced is my soulemate. Can you get any luckier? I think not.

table for a rainy day

2010-01-30T10:58:00.000-08:00

loop it up

2010-01-29T11:01:00.000-08:00

This week Caitlin and I volunteered at Loop It Up, an after-school art program at the YMCA run by our dear friend Molly Lieberman. This week the kids were focusing on quilts. It came about because I had the big idea to make child-sized quilts from scraps to be sent to an orphanage in Haiti. The Loop kids got in on the action, too, and made their own quilt to send. They picked out fabric and cut pieces and fit them together "like a puzzle". Some of their fabric choices were funny, but some of them were really spontaneous and inspiring. Caitlin took home the layed-out quilt pieces and sewed them up into a 45" quilt top. Yesterday we went back and showed them how to tie it.

When the little girls caught wind that I had a camera with me, they begged me to take turns taking pictures with it. Here are the outcomes:

polyvore by me, clothes by modcloth

2010-01-25T07:54:00.000-08:00

If I could wear anything today, it would be this modcloth ensemble.

sunday table

2010-01-24T14:54:00.000-08:00

an amazing story pt. 1

2010-01-15T07:37:00.000-08:00

Last weekend Caitlin and I made a trip to our favourite local business, @home, that is sadly closing its doors forever. Everything is marked down, so we went to peruse the sales. In a glass display case I spied this beautiful wedding cake topper--too pretty to be so inconspicuously displayed (and if you've read my blog before, you'll know I collect them)! I snatched it up and to my surprise, the sales girl gave it to me in what appeared to be an old shoebox.

When I got it home, I looked it over and was surprised to find it wasn't a shoebox after all--it's the box the wedding invitations came in, printed in Green Bay, WI on white vellum. This was only the beginning of the surprises.

Inside the box I found a paper napkin from the reception (blue and pink wedding bells with silver foil accents!), two matching place cards that say "Bob" and "Lucille", and a clipping of the original newspaper announcement ! "Marion Dallas Weds Myron Hartman Today". It's from September, 1941, and though I can't make out what day it was, I have a suspicion it may have been my birthday. The article is typical of 40's wedding announcements, giving an extremely detailed play-by-play of what everyone wore, sang, and ate. Lucille Steinberg sang three solos. The bride wore a white dress and veil edged in Chantilly lace. The bridesmaid wore yellow and had a crown of tea roses and baby's breath. The wedding cake was yellow and white, and the reception only held places for 20 family members--quite a difference from today's wedding extravaganzas!

The flip side of the newspaper article gives a telling description of the era--"Desperate Soviet Counter-Attacks Hurled at Nazis."

I thought it was such a shame that this incredible piece of family history somehow escaped Chippewa Falls and made its lonely way to Savannah, GA, and I wondered how. Then last night we discovered the top of the box has "L. Steinberg" written on it in faint pencil, and it began to make sense. We hypothesize that Lucille (who sang at the wedding) was given the topper by the bride, in the box. She probably saved her own napkin, and the two place cards were hers and her husband's. She probably also clipped the newspaper story and put it all together for safe keeping. After Lucille died, the topper et al probably got auctioned off or given to a friend, and thus made its trip all the way to Georgia.

I did a little research and discovered that Marion and Myron do, in fact, have living children and grandchildren, though I don't know their names. I found a family tree online managed by a woman named Sarah Hartman, and I emailed her my story in hopes she may have some contact info.

If all goes well, I hope this beautiful little topper and all its accouterments will be reunited with its family soon!

what does a fibers major do? #1

2010-01-14T09:01:00.000-08:00

We make colour.

vegetable dyed silk, cotton, and wool

apartment c: before

2010-01-13T07:21:00.000-08:00

To begin the makeover series on Apartment C, I thought I would show you some pictures of it (gasp!) naked. So here we go, on the night I moved in:

Can't wait to show it to you in-progress! (I promise, it's been cute-d up a LOT!)

happy news!

2010-01-12T15:48:00.001-08:00

Just had to pop in and share that my Fais de Beaux Reves pillow made it to Etsy's front page tonight!

(psst, that's me in the bottom left corner!)

monday night knitting

2010-01-12T10:10:00.001-08:00

Every Monday night at 8, Caitlin and I take a walk to our favourite coffee house, Gallery Espresso. Our major's club, Fibers Force, hosts a "stitch-and-bitch" of sorts, officially called Monday Night Knitting. Monday nights are some of my favourite nights just because of it!

There's nothing better than walking in from the cold to find a group of your friends waiting for you with great coffee, carrot cake, and some new knitting projects. We gab about our lives--which classes are you taking? How did your critique go? Have you seen the new stuff at Anthropologie? You got ANOTHER dog?!

At a college like SCAD, where there isn't a real campus (just spread throughout the city), it can be hard to feel like you're part of a bigger picture. On Monday nights I see where I fit in the puzzle.

Funny story: Last night we sat in the far back corner, and Caitlin spied two men on the other side of the room. They were very manly-looking men, beards and all, but they were knitting! New rivals! We got such a kick watching them help each other learn to purl. Later on they switched to crochet. On my way out, I leaned over and told them, "We're very impressed with your crochet!" They got very bashful and one sheepishly said, "We're trying!"

new year: a change of pace

2010-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

It's a new year! A fresh start, renewed vigor for the many months of work and life ahead. While I'm looking forward to everything 2010 may bring, I would like to borrow an idea I saw on some other blogs and recap the inspiration 2009 brought me:

JANUARY:

FEBRUARY:

MARCH:

APRIL:

MAY:

JUNE:

JULY:

AUGUST:

SEPTEMBER:

OCTOBER:

NOVEMBER:

DECEMBER:

Happy New Year!