Indian Artists

    I have been a terrible blogger this last month, sickness and bad internet got the better of me. But now I am back! And I thought I would start with a blog about a charming day I had in Udaipur, when BHW and me learned the art of Indian painting.  I took the class to learn how to paint in the traditional Indian style because when I go home I want to take these traditions with me and make my own creations using this technique.

(Udaipur was filled with places offering Indian art lessons. We paid $14 dollars for a two-hour lesson, $7 per person and materials included). 

 X HMS X

Nepalese Tin Plant Pots...

     Whilst hiking the Himalayas I came to noticed the way the Nepalese recycled their tins and used them as plant pots. I found the pots to be rather charming as I spotted them on window ledges or decorating an entrance to a house. I thought to myself, 'When I next have a home, I will give this a go.'   Perhaps you too can think like the Nepalese and recycle some old bean or paint tins.

I think my friend HJK would very much like these tin pots.

X HMS X

Love Edward Lear

Passed down by generations in the Stewart family, the most wonderful book. I could read Nonsense for hours. 

Pussy said to the Owl, "you elegant fowl!

"how charmingly sweet you sing!

"O let us be married! to long we have tarried:

"but what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away for a year and a day,

To the land where the Bong - tree grows,

And there in the wood a Piggy - wig stood,

With a ring at the end of his nose,

His nose,

His nose,

With a ring at the end of his nose,

"Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

"Your ring?" said the piggy "I will"

So they took it away, and were married next day

By the turkey that lived on the hill.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand,on the edge of the sand,

They danced to the light of the moon

The moon,

     The moon,

t

 h

  e

   y

danced

b

 y

      the

l

  i

   g

   h

  t

of

t

  h

    e

m

  o

   o

           n.

A wonderful find from Princess May, Car Boot Sale Dalston 2pounds

Quilt Inspiration

This year I have decided that every Christmas present I give, will in fact be handmade. Which means I need to start early. So this week I am consumed with patterns to create my first patchwork quilts for the most beautiful ladies in my life, Margret and Janice Stewart. It's always a good idea to grab some inspiration, so have collected the above images to get me started. My flatmate Hannah and I have just started the very elite 'Sewing Tuesday', so this Tuesday I laid down the map of my patchwork quilt I find sewing extremely therapeutic so not only am I calming the mind, I am also saving the pennies.

Flower Bulb

The Owl And The Pussy-Cat

The Owl And The Pussy-Cat  

by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.


'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?'Said the Piggy,'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon. 

 

Inspiration for Stitch Project - Love and Frolics

Tracey Emin

Inspiring People

This week Hms saw two of her favorite people do what they do best, and boy they do it well.

Pinky Love - Exhibition Dalston Super Store London

B. H.Wolf Poetry reading at Poetry Unplugged Covent Garden

High time

draped in plaid—patterns,

a skirt,

a belt,

fitted tight

against the sweater:

a foreign place

such a fine time.

Legs crossed, bare skin folded

tightly around the thigh,

a grand milky-way

not yet discovered,

somewhat terrestrial,

such a starry galaxy.

Soft fist tightens, a point,

before the belt,

of no return:

to each finger

a line on a hand,

to each needle--

a valiant,

ephemeral

beauty--

there grips a finger.

Patterns,

greens merging with blues,

youth, roses, life elsewhere

a mad carnival of color,

lost together

upon fabric made for trends,

no different than street creatures

who let patterns drag them

through the sewer grit.

Captain.

He's sinking!

Are the dice thrown?

Or were they taken back to salty seas,

back to the grand milky-way tangled in plaid,

below the ground work iron,

where “the great shroud of the sea

rolled on as it rolled

5,000 years ago...?”

Only beauty appears to her now and

the dice matched at six drown in the shroud

crashing into the abysmal abyss,

fading ever so madly into the depths of her own wreckage.

She thinks of the whale

shimmering, sparkling,

plunging its coarse white body

through the needle's point,

letting him dip,

under and over the tide

until he sinks away beyond her control.

Belly sinks, a skirt—stained plaid,

carnival lost,

crossed legs revealed,

shadows on a clogged sink,

life is here, yet foreign

a needle hits a sheet-less mattress

and somewhere near the ghost of the whale

there lays a belt,

there also lies a past high time,

it was such a fine time.

B.H.Wolf

Inspiration For Stitch

Tracey Emin

Tracey Emin

Tracey Emin

 Edward Lear

Stitch work in progress