Cabinet, Art in the Age Part II

Peg and Awl Apothecary Cabinet Part II from Art In The Age on Vimeo.

oh,

Søren awoke from a nap singing a Weaver's song that was playing. He has never heard The Weaver's before as far as I know so he was absorbing it in his sleep!

Next, The Carter Family, it is just that kind of day.

Russia

Silas Anselm and Art in the Age.

I am pretty sleepy as I attempt this post. I am trying to catch up somewhere or everywhere but really catching up nowhere. Sprinkling bits and pieces of story here and there. We had our show at Art in the Age on Friday 1 October. It was loads of fun and super packed. Our best show ever. On the way there I thought I was going into labour which was fine as there was a table and some antique forceps at our show.

The next day was Crafty Bastards in DC. Walter made me stay home to 'rest'. I cannot believe I listened and stayed home. I didn't rest though.

Sunday was our friends Joey and Alina's wedding in NYC. I was having contractions the entire way there but didn't tell W. He'd have said lets go home. We stayed for the entire wedding which was wonderful, as was the location: The Explorer's Club. Amazing. By the time the contractions were 3 minutes apart, we left.

It took us 3 hours to get home. W was getting nervous and my jokes about him delivering the baby did not ease his mind. Just before crossing the bridge into Philadelphia my water broke so we went straight to the Birth Centre! Silas Anselm was born the morning of the next day. He was funny looking and W and I laughed until the bed shook. He turned beautiful really fast.

Walter building a cabinet, by AITA part 1

Cabinet Building with Walter Kent of Peg and Awl pt. 1 from Art In The Age on Vimeo.

Pieces Too Small To Save

W. and I returned from the Baltimore Book Festival late last night.

Whilst there we met a peculiar fellow - a cabinet maker - who told us the story of an olde farm he visited long ago. Someone invited him there because the olde man had died and they were breaking it apart to sell the bits inside and then the building itself. He was so animated in the telling. When he went into the attic, he found a cigar box (and louder) with "pieces too small to save!" Pencils whose eraser and wood was worn to the metal, small nubs of wood from various projects. There were pieces of molding tied up in newspaper from 1910!

The guy of course went on and on, but after 'pieces too small to save' I started thinking of my own project and what a wonderful title that would be.

I am still receiving envelopes and cannot wait to get further into this project. I am going choose the best pieces for variety and collage, so not all envelopes will be included. (So send your best pieces!) Some of the things that I am receiving are bigger than the pages of my book (5x2.5) and I hesitate to cut them down to fit (relinquishing the your scraps nature, and turning them into my scraps)

This morning I received a package from Amsterdam and tore into it!!! Though I am grateful for the American envelopes, I must confess, there is something super special about receiving packages from other lands!

Keep sending! I plan to eventually take some of the pages to The Printer and make prints (each artist whose scraps I use will receive an 8x10 print of their page!) and perhaps, eventually reproduce the book and make it available to all! (or some - depending upon whether it is handmade and limited, or created through Blurb or something akin)

Scrapplings project

I have received so many great envelopes of scraps for my new little book project. This will take longer than I suspected. I will likely include the beginning in the upcoming show at Art in the Age. Depending upon the results, I would like to print each page out in limited print editions. Each artist will eventually receive a print of their scrapplings!

Thank you to all who have sent packages and to everyone else, please send envelopes and repost my request! I will be working on this for a while yet...

I know I am being scattered about this, but as I receive packages I realise that what is in my head hasn't necessarily come out.

The size of the book is 2 1/2 x 5 inches. So it is small. Please send small scraps that will fit on the page, but also, I would like the actual scraps as opposed to leftovers. The negative of what you are making. I do not want to cut or alter the size and shapes of the bits or the remains will become something else. I want the pieces to represent the artist and the artwork. The collage part will be me!

So, when you are looking for scraps find, get on your knees, dig in corners, scraps. Scraps too small to otherwise use scraps. Teeny tiny bits of what was scraps.

Bjorn, the not forgotten

Bjorny, my first little treasure next to Søren's easel watching all that is going on outside...

More thorough explanation of The Leavings

So I looked at the faded pencil and my wish was to call it The Leavings.

I am including a photograph of the page in my journal that brought me to this. The point of these pages is that the bits and pieces from the floor are to represent the artist and what is being worked on. Through colour and material one should begin to understand what the person on each page is working on...

For size reference the pages will be 2 1/2 x 5.

Request for Artist Droppings

I have had this idea running through my head for many years - I have even gone as far as scrambling around the floor s of friends studios picking up the teeny tiny scraps of what they do and I made this book to house the bits.

Walter and I have a show coming up that is to be installed on the 28th of September. Close. But now I know that I would like to put this together as a book for the show.

If you have the desire to be a part of this, please send an envelope with tiny scraps that represent what you do... colours and texture. Be it fabric or crunchy paint, bits of olde paper cut out paper, glitter. Animal hair human hair or flowers. Send send! And please put your name on it. I will be writing each artists name on the opposing page of the collage of droppings.

I am going to be selective.

Please pass this on and send them quickly! It is absurd of me to figure this out now but I have. And I want it.

Margaux Kent
1116 East Palmer Street
Philadelphia Penna
19125

Write SCRAPPLINGS on the envelope!

Extremely Bursting Happy

I don't know what does it. How my brain twists and turns and decides for all of me how the day will be. But to-day I am extremely bursting happy. The night before last I was extremely bursting sad. I cleaned a path for to pee at night by throwing things this way and that. Piles, mounds, mountains of things filled every space that wasn't my path. Søren woke up, sat up, big brown eyes looking at me. I went into the bedroom (he was in our bed) and laid down next to him. "Crying, mama? It's okay. Messy, Mama." " Yes, Søren." We went on to talk about how we would clean up toys. "I'm sorry Mama." I told him that it was an accumulation of things, not his toys, not my need for a path. He looked up, out of our window and complimented the tree. Then, "I love the tree, Mama. I love you, Mama. I love you." So many times then he said this. My face was streaked with tears. "Still crying, Mama? It's fine. Let's go to sleep." And with that he was asleep. I kissed his cheek as many times as he said I love you that night.

Walter and I must finish our masks and take photographs. Here is how I begin most of my photographs. A drawing.

Obsession

Had me dig out my dusty guitar and give it a go.

Mugshots and Villians

Mugshots. Such alluring countenances and icey-eyed tin-types from over ambitious sitters looking just as criminal.

I love these new little journals and will post one in my neglected Etsy shoppe. Our shoppe at The Renegade Craft Fair will be LOADED so find us!

Walter is working on a secret project simultaneously using LEAST WANTED and from it we are sneaking a few profiles.

The Largest Tiny Book Library

I have been making teeny tiny books until my vision is blurred and I have to spit on my finger and smear it in my eyes to keep going... This is just a small taste of what will be at our Renegade Shoppe! booths no. 32 and no. 33 which includes:

The Black Spot Books ( theblackspotbooks.etsy.com )
Peg and Awl ( pegandawl.etsy.com )
Enhabiten ( enhabiten.etsy.com )
and Forestbound ( forestbound.etsy.com )

Our shoppe will be LOADED with amazing treasures made from discarded objects from the past. Bags from olde military fabric, ticking, et al, pillows from olde quilts and handstitched wonders, objects for the garden, bath and home from reclaimed wood, and handbound journals and jewels from antique leather. Our 'shoppe' will be constructed from olde things as well so don't miss it!

If it weren't for crummy laws you bet we'd all be camping in it on Saturday 5 June. We will have a military cot and would have a cozy fire with some kind of luscious treat. What happened to this kind of life? Instead we have to pack everything up, find a place to stay (well, we found a great place, with our ever-inspiring friends Joey and Alena (we even have a night planned of dinner, website discussion, book goings-over, and catalog talk - more work!) so I cannot complain - see Joey's amazingness here: www.blackstonesnyc.net and get your hairs cut whilst!) and re-build in the morning!

blahr. I cannot wait!

Feature in Chinese magazine Little Thing

Yesterday as I was getting on my bike to ride to the hospital to meet with a new midwife and see our new little baby (still in my belly) the postman handed me Little Thing magazine. I was so excited that I tore off the plastic and showed him(!)

The magazine is book themed and features amazing olde fashioned little bookshoppes from around the world as well as book artists. Not the proper build-a-book the way they once were artists, but tear 'em up and paint on 'em and completely rearrange 'em book artists.

If anyone can read Chinese, let me know and I shall attempt to take better photographs!!!

New dresses from the 1930s

A few weekends ago I found the most amazing little bunch of dresses mostly, I believe now with the help of Angela, that they are mostly from the 1930s. One may be from the 1920s. I listed one and it vanished in less that an hour. I shall list the others soon...

It is hot in here though, and I am sleepy. Søren is not here, sniff, and we are watching Where the Wild Things Are... So to-nite? Maybe... just for one little Bonnie and Clyde number... Perhaps.

Walter got us a family membership to the Philadelphia Art Museum and we went to see the Picasso exhibit to-day (because it was included in the membership) and I, erm, just don't get it. I love the story of Paris and the change but the art, shit. I didn't get a single shiver.

a curious day

It is nearly midnight. This time of night lately has me curled up in bed beneath two blankets two kittens and a book. But not this night. I am exhausted and dried up from too much salt, but to-day's story must be told. Or expelled.

The day began with more green on the tree outside of our bedroom window and little Sørny wanting bitside. That is, outside. I was loaded with energy and determined to finish Peg and Awl tags and logo et cetera and postcards for upcoming shows. Sørny and I went bitside, he to play with his new birthday toys in the dirt and around my delicate little seedlings, me with a sketchbook and some olde tools scattered about.

But then I remembered my appointment at The Birth Center. I took off, half eating my lunch. The day was beautiful and I listened to the Everything is Illuminated soundtrack and made up my own words. And then I heard the little baby's hearbeat. And then I was headed home. On the way home I thought it important to call Katie back. We talked about the current exhibit at the Met - Playing with Pictures: The Art of Victorian Photocollage and suddenly there was a face in my window that told me to pull up on the curb in front of the zoo. I dropped the phone and did as I was told. It just so happens that the day before my wallet was rescued by Walter and tucked into the back pocket of his pants. AND my license had expired last May. I wasn't showing up in the Philadelphia system and it seemed that I was going to be arrested. With the expired license no. I was eventually saved from the cuffs but the tow truck was already on its way. I began to empty out my belongings onto the little triangle of grass in front of the zoo and surrounded by many many onlookers in cars. It just so happened that my dress was very short - especially with my belly growing rounder. As I leaned in the back to clear out the rest of my treasures I heard a crash. My officers then had something new to take care of. I continued to empty the car. Against the tree was one big golden frame from the 1800s. One very olde tiger made from real fur. One cat skull. A tripod. A Holga. An antique and very large coffin like glove box filled with loads of other treasures. I called my dad, after all, my car was in the shoppe and I was borrowing one of his. He just so happened to be at traffic court picking up a truck that one of his guys wrecked and left. I told him to wait and I soon showed up. I couldn't free the car though until I showed the registration. That was at papa's office. Walter Søren and I headed there and Walter's truck began to smoke. The brakes had locked. Soon we had returned to traffic court where the judge recognised my pa from just a bit ago, laughed, and gave me a little bit of a break in the tickets. We then head over to the tow place and my pa, received a list of tickets for over 1700 dollars in since the 1990s. My brothers doinds. I was exhausting my already famished body making Sørny laugh in the car. I looked over and saw a goat in the parking lot. A baby goat. Søren and I got out of the car to pet him. My dad picked up the car from the lot and proceeded to smash it into his other car that we drove there in.

We went to dinner and I ordered a most delicious quinoa and bean burger with smoked coconut on top. Stuck to the bottom however, was a very chewy unidentifiable object which I believe may have been meat. It is now 12:04 and I am exhausted and thirsty.

Who will read this anyway? And why would I want anyone to?

pulchritude

I want this...

Good Feeling.

Good Feeling, Won't You Stay With Me, Just A Little Longer...

Good Feeling

A Bad Dream

I thought this would be easy, posting journal pages. I have not written much, but I realise that what I write is not very shareable. This too, but I was up all night over this dream, so, well, here it is...