Jozsa’s Corner was my birthday surprise from Eric. I’ve been busy so I haven’t had time to post the photos. jozsas corner thank youjozsas corner_more decorationsjozsas corner-photojozsas corner decorationsjozsas corner-yumfamily at JozsaCornerjozsas corner eric is happy

Jozsa’s Corner is the exact opposite of a chain restarunt. Only open by appointment, Jozsa himself greets you with appetizers. You server yourself and eat on styrafoam plates — after Jozsa bring course after course. I’m glad we took some photos because it was all a whir of delerium. Ernesto entertained himself by banging on the house piano — not the slightest bit of awkwardness having a wormy toddler. Eric and I were able to enjoy our dinner. I was so happy to spend my birthday with my family.

My mother-in-law gave me a book today, such a find. The illustrations are so whimsical. Each page has a new kaleidoscope of dreamy color and fantastic ideas. Reading it, I had a shivery sense of awe and excitement. A new treasure I will dearly behold.AtticoftheWind_3

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Attic In The Wind Cover

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Tea towels and napkins. My mom never visits with out complaining about our napkin situation. We don’t use paper napkins and just sort of share a dish cloth — which she finds disgusting. So, she buys large quantities of paper napkins to help our depraved situation. To head her off, I decided to take some inspiration from some amazing dish towels I found in her basement. Now the next time she visits, I’ll have a stack of fresh, clean napkins and dish towels — and hopefully she will be satisfied and we can avoid the economy package of icky paper towels and napkins.

So, my first inspiration was…myself. Hot water bottles are a part of my cold weather routine. My feet are always cold and I tote them everywhere I go. I made a few some with velvet, some with gauze and some with little happy uterus.HI_Hotwatter-bottlesHI_WarmUterus_WaterBottle

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Working at night has its advantages, night photos excluded. Regardless of the mediocre pics, I’m too excited to show off my new tags. I finally have all of my business cards, tags, and packaging put together. It’s really fun to see every thing finished and ready to go.

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Fall Clothes make fall fun.

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Flax and Lavender Eye Pillow - Two sizes

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One benefit of having a “studio” is how I am working now. I am just having fun and seeing what works. I feel so much more productive.

So, after a pretty stressful decision making process – Eric and I decided to try letting Ernesto have a night away from me. He’s 17 months old and last night was the first night I didn’t have him next to me. Eric sent this photo of them walking. I’d like to enjoy the free time, but honestly it’s really weird.

Nesto Campin'

I want to thank Mir for taking the time to write an intimate review of my book of drawings. Miriam is an early founder of New-Buffalo and is a current candidate for her M.A. at the New School*.

Lacy daydreams have taken the place of my sleeping dreams

On Aplomb by Sarah Banach

D.H. Lawrence’s heavy, wet prose is intimate with its topic to the extent that it eludes Memory. She hides from Him. Topic unfolds in the feminine time of reading. Time is pregnant and reflection slips away into lacy daydreams–

‘She had to dance in exultation beyond him. Because he was in the house, she had to dance before her Creator in exemption from the man. On a Saturday afternoon, when she had a fire in her bedroom, again she took off her things and danced, lifting her knees and her hands in a slow, rhythmic exulting. He was in the house, so her pride was fiercer. She would dance his nullification, she would dance to her unseen Lords. She was exalted over him, before the Lord.
He watched, and his soul burned in him. He turned aside, he could not look, it hurt his eyes. Her fine limbs lifted and lifted, her hair was sticking out all fierce, and her belly, big, strange, terrifying, uplifted to the Lord. Her face was rapt and beautiful, she danced exulting before the Lord, and knew no man.’

We were ALL once swathed in a warmth that is now the mere faint breath on our cheek of the imminent and final return that we can only imagine in dreams. The mother is to ALL of us tears in large eyes, mountains of flesh, hair, forefinger and thumb, the grazing touch that somehow also holds.

*I’m not actually sure where Mir goes to school, I just know they’re a bunch of snappy dressers where ever she is…