her cup of tea, she would admit to no one (belle and sebastian)

The materials: Sundry china pieces, mostly ugly and mismatched.
The source: The local Catholic thrift store (the dollar shelf).
The story: This chapter of my life will be called Sorry, I Can't Do That Because I Am Going To A Wedding Then. Find me one single, unmarrying friend in this city! I dare you! (To be read with a knowing chuckle as well as the overwhelming certainty that I mean all of my marrying friends only rest and joy and peace.)
All of this means that homegirl owes lots of ladies lots of bridal shower gifts. Having finally finished and put to rest the life chapter of Nah, I'll Just Eat This Out Of The Bag, I am growing in my awareness of wanting to own pretty things off of which to serve vegan muffins or quinoa stirfry or cheeze-itz. So, the end result of this project was a handful of dainty serving platters, completely unique and ladylike. (AND I learned recently that these are also called "salvers", which comes from the Spanish "salva", or "to save." And THAT comes from the custom of tasting the food and libations of the King before he could eat lest he die in a poisonous mess.)

The How To Do It:
1. Go to any salvage or thrift shop.
2. Test out combinations of various china pieces to the chagrin of the clerks behind the counter.
3. Secure some strong glue from The Guy From the Local Hardware Store Who Looks Like Ben Franklin.
4. Glue those suckers together. (When I did this, I left myself ten minutes for the glue to dry before having to arrive at the bridal shower. Don't do that.)
The cost: $8 (eight pieces of discount china) + $.30 (amount of glue used) = $8.30



And now welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me, in which I catch wind of someone doing excellent work and would like to tell you about them. Today's guest is Tegan Brozyna. We were pals in college, and I was always struck with her whimsy and how that was expressed in the form of art. Working from Philly now, Tegan is part of the Church Studios community of artists and is creating lovelythings.

thinned newfragile yellows (e.e.cummings)

The material: Scrap stained glass pieces
The source: The stained glass....store?
The story: Doggies, I still live in an I Can't Paint These Walls world. In an attempt to get around that, I have been trying to splice color into odd spots all around. This stove-side window in my kitchen overlooks things like gravel, the Broadstreet Market (when you careen your neck), and a Honda (always). I am against being able to see two out of three of those things, but I am also insistent on a house full of light through its windows. Stained glass exists for this very reason, and so one evening, my favoriteprofessorandnowdearfriend Helen Walker and I held a thousand squares of color to the light to find our favorites. I picked two to fit my kitchen window in colors that would pick up the table, the cups, and NOT the gravel/Honda. These days, I am obsessed with the yellow-to-green-to-brown spectrum. Be prepared for that when you come visit. The house is smashedfull with it.













The How To Do It:
1. Spend years making jewelry, and you will have acquired a wealth of very thin-gauged wire by the time you want to do this project.
2. Wrap wire four or five times around the center of the glass pane, and then back onto itself toward the top to get rid of dastardly stray wire ends.
3. Form a hoop of wire at the top out of the excess.
4. Make the hoop longer for the second pane of glass to allow for staggered hanging.
5. Use any old fixture you want to hang the panes from. I used a standard wall hook that I found rolling around in the utensil drawer.
The cost:$6 (scrap pane of glass) + $6 (scrap pane of glass) + $0 (wire from forever ago) +0 (wall hook, undoubtedly once belonging to my roommate) = $12.













And now welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me, in which I catch wind of someone doing excellent work and would like to tell you about them. Today's guest is Matthew Murray. His jam is to photograph abandoned structures to both document their downfall and dignify their beauty, specializing in asylums and churches. One thing in particular that I appreciate about his pieces is how carefully and eye-wrinklingly titled they are. Matt's work is excellent and has inspired me to enter dangerous buildings to photograph them. He can be blamed for my death.

get back(splash)

backsplashes are the new black, guys!

the items: standard size tiles donated by a lovely woman i don't know very well, blueprints from a paddleboat, a love of poetry, and a thousand corks donated by walter diehl approximately 30 years ago.

the story: this project is a marriage of lots of odd pieces i didn't quite know what to do with. the tiles are high quality, and the blueprints and corks are unique. but they all hung around in corners and boxes for years, always one-upped by other supplies. UNTIL TODAY, when i made a back splash for the area of wall behind my stove. the process for this was very easy since i have been in the habit of making tile coasters for years.






it goes like this: 1. find paper that will fit the size of your tile (in this case, effing blueprints. i garnered these from a part-time job awhile ago in which i worked for a riverboat, and these were in the trash. i modified the blueprints slightly by adding part of fishing on the susquehanna in the middle)
2. cut to fit.
3. drench in modpodge.
4. afix to tile, rubbing out all air bubbles. (i can not stress enough how mad you will be if it dries and you find an air bubble in the middle. you will be incensed.)







5. let dry.
6. seal with polyurethane, lacquer, or what have you. (the sixth step was particularly important in this project since the tiles will be SPLASHED UPON by delicious cooking things.)
7. IN THE EVENT that you have a landlord, as i do, and don't want to run the risk of making her sad by affixing subversive blueprints to the wall, superglue corks to the back. they essentially sit ON the stove and rest against the wall. easy, breezy.




the cost: $0 (donated tiles) + $0 (reclaimed blueprints) + $0 (donated corks) + $.30 (the amount worth of mod podge i used) = $.30





and now, welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me in which i catch wind of someone doing excellent work, and i want to tell you about them. today's guest is walter diehl, the donor of aforementioned corks. walter holds the disctinction of being my first roommate in harrisburg (for the span of a full week) as well as one of the most generous people i know. he specializes in abstract acrylics, curating, and networking the bejeezus out of the art world in central pa. his pursuit of art has taken him all over, and he was recently the subject of an article in the Central Penn Jorunal for having supplied a HUGE load of paintings to furnish the new lofts at 909. also notably, he is the co-owner of Progressive Galleries in Lancaster. you can visit the gallery tomorrow night for their First Friday show.

oh, say say say (the yeah yeah yeahs)

the item: kitchen table
the story: i have, at last, finished the kitchen table. (and when i say finished, i mean i still need to paint over a few mistakes and then seal it to protect from the underside of the cup of tea you will sip with me soon. also to come: i am inscribing the poem what we need is here along the outside rim when i get home from work today.)

to make your own strange, aslant map, i'd recommend a rough draft first.

then, tape out the streets so that you can get a healthy grid. (i centered the map on my house.)

also, feel free to measure proportions with your protractor from third grade.

i decided to draw a vastly incomplete map of harrisburg, as disproportionate as most bodies, and as strangely colored as my selection of paint would allow (the street color matches the mugs hanging from the door). it has some of my friends' houses (because lots of my friends live in houses i don't know about) and some of my favorite places to go. it's also the sort of scene that can be added to. while we're sipping tea, i'll hand you a sharpie, and you can help fill in the blanks.

the cost: $0 (kitchen table donated from favorite Roxy's waitress) +$17 (primer from the man who looks like benjamin franklin to allow for painting on crappy, verneer wood) + $0 (donated paint) + $3 (protractor and ruler set from the grocery store) = $20

and now, welcome to a segment we call These Persons Have Surpassed Me in which i catch wind of someone doing excellent work, and i want to tell you about them. today's guest is tributary, the combined efforts of my co-baristas-and-worthy-adversaries beth and kinsey rice. the Rice Style is very intentionally reminiscent of the soft folds of cabin life, irreparably nature-centered, and whimsical. you can see their work at local craft fairs and currently at the employee art show at the midtown scholar (next to mine!) this is my favorite design.

mis en scene

which means: starting the story somewhere in the middle. the story I'M in the middle of is my dastardly kitchen table. it was blessedly and adorably bequeathed to us by elizabeth, one of our favorite waitresses at roxy's. what makes it dastardly is its pressboard-looking-ways.

keep in mind that people LOVE to tell you that painting a veneer finish will last for about a half hour before it peels off. (i am usually the sort of person who gambles with temporal fixes. for example, i have a temporary fake front tooth from the tender age of sixteen and no dental insurance.) but it's true, and they're right, so be prepared for these comments and for addressing the Veneer Situation. when i consulted the man who looks like benjamin franklin (WHOSE NAME I LEARNED TODAY IS FRANK) at the hardware story, he told me that all i need is a special sort of primer to cover the veneer before painting. he directed me to this guy, and i bought it. i know $17 is a little steep for this blog, and i'm sorry. but i did it for us all.

i have applied the first coat of primer to the table, and now i am in the midst of deciding on a design i can stand. i have thought about doing something geometric or colloquial, but in the end i would love to incorporate some poetry into this project.maybe something from one of these:

from fishing on the susquhanna (billy collins)

I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one --
a painting of a woman on the wall,

a bowl of tangerines on the table --
trying to manufacture the sensation
of fishing on the Susquehanna.

from stones (charles simic)

I have seen sparks fly out
when two stones are rubbed,
so perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
perhaps there is a moon shining
from somewhere, as though behind a hill--
just enough light to make out
the strange writings, the star-charts
on the inner walls.

from i carry your heart (e.e. cummings)

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.

what we need is here (wendell berry)

geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. and we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. what we need is here.

(also, i am really opinionated, but i am always interested in suggestions. i am putty in your hands.)

and now, welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me in which i catch wind of someone doing excellent work, and i want to tell you about them. today's guest is tim hoover, a gentle and brilliant soul working at lancaster's infantree gallery. tim's prints are poetic, thought-provoking, and still. this is one of my favorites.

after the cups, the marmalade, the tea (t.s. eliot)

before the usual Dog and Pony Show, let me first redirect you to this, the best idea ever. (essentially, the five boroughs of new york have begun compiling business and enterprise waste into a giant warehouse for re-purposing by artists and organizations without the funds to buy supplies themselves. it's good for the artist, obviously, and it benefits the businesses to tax-deduct donations AND save on costs of trash hauling. if anyone in the harrisburg area has it in their heart/budget to help me make this happen, i will, oh i dunno, blog about you or something.) end plug for AN INCREDIBLE DISPLAY OF HUMANITY. now onto my bland kitchen:

the item: wooden door

the source: the green street dumpster
the story: we have a sunny kitchen, but it is pasty. in this Renting Situation, there's only so much you can do to the walls till the landlord notices. AND SO, i screwed hooks into this old, heavy-as-a-heart door so that i could hang garish, chartreuse flower pot mugs within easy reach of the tea drinkers at my table. it was a simple task, but it offers six tiny splashes of color. (stay tuned for the post when i tell you what i finally end up doing with that ridiculously ugly table in the foreground.)
the cost: $0 (reclaimed wooden door) + $5.50 (six brass hooks from the hardware store run by a man who looks like benjamin franklin) = $5.50

and now, welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me in which i catch wind of someone doing excellent work, and i want to tell you about them. today's guest is tara chickey, a local artist who is quickly becoming incredibly inspirational to me. i first saw tara's work hanging from local poles in the form of show posters, and then later learned her connection to the mantis collective. (if you live in harrisburg, you will want to know about the mantis collective.) tara is on my list both for her work and for her insistance in providing space for other artists (including myself, and thanks for all those times i forgot to bring a table to the oddones craft fairs and you let me sell crafts anyway SORRY).