Slowly

So I kind of hit a bit of a wall last week…it was the ‘ideas are running away with me’ wall and although I had tried to tweak and play with my Arduino board and the Isadora software Ash had been showing me I seemed to have stumbled on a glitch and couldn’t resolve it…I also realised that I couldn’t resolve it as I did not know enough about each elements to be able to use the help section as I wasn’t sure which way to look first. HOWEVER good always comes from bad as I spent my time linking to Mark Coniglio’s You Tube tutorials and watched a few set-ups and scenarios. He’s the designer of Isadora – the software I’m using. I also got myself familiar with the actual layout and tools of the ‘scenes’ (the areas that I set up my codes and rules etc on). BUT Today was a much better day! Before Ash came over I managed to link the band back on to the treadle wheel of my sewing machine and although its crusty and rusty I think I have almost got it working as I saw the needle rising up and down…the needle is still threaded from either my Nannar or Aunt’s last piece of work! Also, over the last few weeks I posted a photo of the machine on Facebook and wrote a bit about it…gradually over a few days, members of my family began to add comments and reflect on the machine…I DID NOT EXPECT THIS – it has been wonderful to read what this machine meant to them as...

my mother’s bag

This latest project concerns memories of a handbag that belonged to someone’s mother or grandmother. I used to love peering into my Mum’s bag, investigating all the bits and bobs(with permission of course!) and looking longingly at the gold tube of Rimmel Coral lipstick – thinking how great it would be when I had my very own bag and lipstick. I also remember too, how helping yourself to things in my Mum’s bag was a real no no – and that you weren’t allowed to rifle through it – if there was something in there that we needed, we’d have to fetch the bag for my Mum to root through herself. I still do that a bit today, my bag is like my own private cupboard with zips and pockets hiding mysterious bits and pieces (of rubbish usually, important rubbish of course) …my bag is also a visual indicator of my mind…by that I mean when my bag is loaded and heavy with papers, receipts, lists, lipbalms, loose change etc, although I know everything in there is safe, I also know that things are getting jumbled and confused in my mind. Every now and then I tip out my bag and reorder things back into their proper places ie: change in my ‘Elvis’ clasp purse, receipts ordered ready to file, credit cards neatly arranged in order of overdraft size. So this project brought together various stories submitted from other people about their mother’s bag, I took my favourite stories and reconstructed a new bag from the leather and linings from my defunct summer bag. There are 3 main stories...