The art of embellishing...

I love knitting scarves and sewing little embellishments on them. It just adds so much.

I just finished this one last night:

It's that time of year again....

I am so happy that I decided to collaborate with a friend this year for the Rock N Roll Craft Show. Which in turn will just be the first of many shows to come together. Nell is my oldest and truest friend and I am happy to be embarking in this with her. I operate under Like Peter Design but after the 3 shows we are doing this winter we will be going through a name change and opening a shop on etsy. I cannot wait!

Lovely finds on a dreary day....

Repairs.

Simply put, I cannot take what I need. This taffy pull is out of my league. And the melody has us all swaying in the stillness of complacency. This is not a sympathy plea. It is an all out cry for mercy in a time that is broken. We are being held together by chewed up pieces of cherry bubble gum. I am in search for some kind of miracle to bind us, sins and all. I cannot take it, you have to be willing to give me a hand. In all of the panic and chaos that goes on in our heads and dreams, standing and swaying will not cut it. No time for blowing bubbles.

Noise.

I love sounds. Except when there is too much noise.

No Control.

As I sit here squeezing the vain bulging out of my foot, I ponder on how I have taken on this maternal role. It is so out of character for me. It has been a little over a year since my mother had a heart attack and stroke. I think I held my breath the first few months, not daring to breathe. Then I eased up on myself realizing that I really had no control at all. 'Whatever will be will be' someone once said. How true. Tonight my mama isn't feeling so well and every bad thought has rushed through my mind. Not so long ago my mother and I did not have much of a relationship and now she means the world to me. I just want to hug her and tell her everything will be fine. I want her to be around for many more moons. Hopefully I don't pop this vain in my foot and I will too.....

beginnings

she ran and ran and ran.

torn, stained dress. her favorite.

smeared dirt crawling up her legs.

matted hair upon her neck.

lustful days of beginnings.