WOO HOO I Found It!

Remember back several weeks ago (Sept. 4) when I was jabbering on about Carl Larsson and how much I liked his artwork and how inspiring his wife was to me? But I was at a loss because I couldn't find the book that talked about Karin and her clothing style?? Well, I finally found the book! It was lurking in the back of my closet (don't ask).

The book is Carl and Karin Larsson: Creators of the Swedish Style edited by Michael Snodin and Elisabet Stavenow-Hidemark (click here to see the cover). I got the book, years ago and for a song, from a Edward Hamilton Books catalog. There are lots and lots of beautiful pictures of the Larsson home and Carl Larsson's work. However, the part that I was telling you about is on page 178 and talks about Karin's clothes and furniture.

Karin did not confine herself to weaving and embroidery. By 1890 she had designed a remarkable plant stand. She designed a chandelier and beds; in 1906 she designed a rough, heavy rocking-chair and a square table for the new studio, pieces in which the function was obvious and the construction was not concealed. According to a Larsson family legend, the local cabinetmaker, who produced the original pieces of furniture, was so ashamed that he delivered them after dark.... They were clearly home-made, but the style was new and avant-garde....
As regards clothes, discreet Karin Larsson was just as conspicuously modern as in her textiles. ...(S)he wears dresses in a flowing style so distinctive that it has acquired the status of a Karin Larsson model.... ...(I)t is surprising that she dared to go against the accepted fashion.... The cut of clothes around the turn of the century, which accentuated a tiny waist, required corsets. Karin misled the eye by adopting fashionable details of the period, such as stand-up collars and leg-of-mutton sleeves. This created a modest impression, which made the observer forget that decent women should be corseted; the loosely hanging dresses were associated with 'loose' morals.
Karin also created comfortable clothes for the children, suitable for family life in the country. She used simple, robust fabrics and was fond of mixing patterns in a modern way. She did not fall for fashion trends....

The book goes on to talk about how Karin left nothing to waste and patched, mended and re-used everything. The furniture which she and Carl had was innovatively altered or painted which gave their home its distinctive and inspiringly fresh look. She was also not concerned with perfection. The end result seemed to be more important to her than the perfection of method in attaining her vision.

It is encouraging to hear or read about people who are not consumed with the herd instinct of needing to "fit in". I came across a Michael J. Fox quotation one day:

"I am careful not to confuse excellence with perfection. Excellence, I can reach for, perfection is God's business."

I suppose I will forever be on my quest for understanding excellence and quality. Karin Larsson did not superimpose perfection upon her creativity which therefore enabled the things she made to remain fresh, displaying a portrait of her own style, her own life.

Rainy Days

Click on the image to see it rain on the leaf!

It has been raining here for the past few days - the sky is steely and everything drips. But I never complain about rain. As a former farm girl and an admirer of green things, I would rather have it be a little too wet than too dry.

I bought a book a couple of weeks ago about Starved Rock Park which is just up the road apiece. It is an interesting compilation of photos and highlights of the work that was done in the 1930s by the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp). The U.S. Army set up and administered the camps which were then run in much the same way as if they were troops stationed in their different locations. Young men were able to enlist in the CCC for six months and were "paid a stipend for a 5 day work week, 3 meals a day, lodging, clothes, footwear, innoculations, other medical and dental care, and, at their option, vocational, academic, or recreational instruction". Since this was during the time of the depression, many of these young men were able to regain physical strength through eating well and receiving medical attention, as well as learning valuable carpentry skills. Most of them sent money back to their families who were helped by this support. The stone work that they built is, I think, especially beautiful and is still used today.

When I was small, we lived near Clarksville, Iowa, which had a lovely walkable stone dam. We would go to Heery Woods State Park for picnics and family reunions where we kids would play on the dam while our Mothers got the food ready and our Dads played horseshoes. I think that the beauty of that park settled in my heart forever and is one of the reasons that I love green and growing things so much.

Graphic based on tutorial by Carver House

Books & Individuality

Click on image for larger view.

Well - it's been 2 days now and I still can't locate my book on Carl and Karin Larsson. So I'll just have to reconnoiter and write down things that I remember reading, but things which I can't verify by checking with the book. I just pray that I don't skew historical fact. However, the things that I remember are not going to be of historical significance. They are significant to me. And that is what is important.

In elementary school, one of my teachers would quote some brilliant person who said, to the effect, that if you can read you can conquer the world. In my pre-pubescent literal mind, I couldn't fit that concept into my brain. It was lofty nomenclature that I sandwiched in a cerebral side-pocket along with "the shot that was heard 'round the world" (get away!!) for some future date. It is shameful to say, but it wasn't until I became an adult that I began to more fully understand the truth of the concept about books. So fully have I bought into that motto now, that our house is crammed from floor to ceiling in every room with volumes on this, that and the other thing. Have I conquered the world? No. But perhaps I've grabbed onto a corner of it. At least I know that if there is anything that I need to know how to do, I can find a book, or a a link, or a YouTube to tell me how. And am I forever grateful!

Carl Larsson has been a longtime favorite artist of mine. He's very popular in Sweden, and I hope someday to visit his home. (Since I don't have the book in front of me, I can't remember how to spell his hometown so I won't try.) His art at the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries was noted for depicting family and domestic homelife. He painted what he loved: his wife, his children and his home. He painted them with charm and joy. I don't think he was particularly joyful all the time. After all, he was an artist and artists suffer, as all of us artists are aware. But he still knew that his wife and his home were his stability. He always added a flower somewhere in his paintings.

As much as I appreciate Carl Larsson's work, it is his wife, Karin, who fascinated me as I read about her in the book that I'm still looking for. She had lots of children. And she encouraged her husband emotionally who painted her all the time. Most of the time she is clearly portrayed in the foreground, but you may also find her as a shadowy figure who creates pictoral balance. In the painting above, she is both in the foreground reading and in the background walking past the window as she strides right out of the painting.

Karin lived in a time in which fashion was clearly set. Women wore corsets; it was clearly determined what was proper for morning wear and what one wore to make afternoon visits. Deviation from the norm was cause for the eyebrow to be raised. Mrs. Larsson was not too concerned about that. She wore loose clothing. Her dresses were long, but they were comfortable. Her nod to current fashion was in the length of her dresses and the style of her sleeves. Everything else was free to interpretation! She made the children's clothing comfortable in a time when children were to be dressed like miniature adults.

I found that her Individuality became an area of challenge and encouragement to me. I have thought about her a lot as I look at my wardrobe and think about what I will and will not wear. Comfort is of enormous importance to me, and because of the snippet I got from this book about Karin's Individuality, I am wanting to become more Individual in what I wear, too. I will not throw the baby out with the bathwater since I will look at the colors and styles of what is worn today, but I will definately eschew certain aspects of it which I think are absurd. What gave me this freedom? I read it in a book! After all, if you can read, you can conquer the world - at least your own world.

Graphic made based on tutorial by Designs by Tyra

Housework

Click on picture for enlarged view.

I come from a distinguished line of women who are "random housekeepers". In an effort to maintain lineage purity and family integrity, I am following in the footsteps of my feminine predecessors while passing along helpful hints to my children. Peg Bracken, in her opening paragraph in chapter one of I Hate To Housekeep Book defines "random housekeepers": "There are three kinds of housekeepers. There is the spotless housekeeper, who won't stop, and there is the spotful housekeeper, who won't start. Then there is the occasional or random housekeeper, whose book this is."

At the present moment, my husband and I are smitten with Reese Sticks. I discovered them first but he had to horn in on the treat which requires me to now carefully guard my stash or they'll be inhaled so fast that the created vacuum will leave me breathless. Therefore, we are allowed one Reese Stick per person per night. They are hard to find, which makes them even more delicious.

This week we are devoted to Reese Sticks. Several weeks ago we couldn't get enough of watching "LOST" on DVD and sat through an all night marathon. This spring I was in to knitting so completely that I made 8 pair of socks for Christmas presents in about 3 months, which was astounding for me because I hardly finish anything let alone PAIRS of socks. Next week, most likely, we will find something else that catches our eye. Like crows, we'll flock around it, pick it up and carry it back to our nest. We are not consistent individuals. We are random, we function quite well that way and we are merrily passing along the DNA. But I find that I actually resent it. I would rather be uniform, consistent, and comfortably pragmatic. I don't want to be dogmatically pragmatic mind you, but yikes! That comment shows that my randomness is leaking out again.

My mother had this book and I found it on my bookshelf today when I was chastising myself, yet again, that I really need to clean house. Since I need a strong charge of desire to clean when I'm not motivated by the terror that company is arriving in 2 hours, I sashayed over to a bookshelf to see if I could find a resource on "getting organized." I've collected a number of helpful volumes through the years. On the bottom shelf, I found little Peg! I blew the dust off her, admired the quirky illustrations by Hilary Knight (who always cracks me up) and began to look through the yellowed pages. I couldn't believe that I'd had that book all these years and I'd never read it! I scanned the first page and knew this book was for me! It is about me! It appeals to my Germanic sense of being sensible and practical, yet it is witty and full of fun - like we Germanic people are....

Chapter 10 of her book "How to Remember and How to Remember to Remember" is a hoot. It is especially relevant to me right now because I forget what it was I left the bathroom to go to the kitchen to get. It wasn't a Reese Stick because I would have remembered that. Oh yes, it was the Awesome cleaner. Now, where did I put that cleaner the last time I finished using it?? I think her flagpole remembering list on page 116 may really help me. You must read that chapter yourself because I could get into big trouble from the copyright cops if I cut and paste too much information from the book into this blog. My blog readership is such that Crest Books would know by this afternoon.

What is the point of all this, you may ask. Well, the point is this. Peg Bracken just gave me credibility to accept that I am random and that I have talent in that direction. I am going to attempt to not obsess about the fact that I'm not spotless but I'm clean enough and life is too short to obsess about being perfect.

I'll talk to you later. It's time for a Reese Stick before my husband comes home.

Bohus Knitting & Excellence

"One critic aptly reported that 'Emma Jacobsson's special mark is the finicky way she chooses colors. She is acutely sensitive to colors and this is what has given Bohus Stickning its special artistic value...
"Emma's attention to flawlessness was ingrained in her personality....
"Ultimately, it was Emma's unrelenting purusuit of quality that enabled Bohus Stickning to achieve the high praise it received. She demanded and expected an enormous amount of dedication from her workers, designers, and knitters. But in return, she gave them respect, empathy, and a sense of pride. Because Emma was highly respected, she was able to make suggestions and changes in the designers' patterns without alienating them. She stimulated their creativty and encouraged them to experiment with colors, yarns, and patterns. Above all, Emma was an inspiration and friend to her colleagues." (from Poems of Color p. 26)

It is challenging to read of a personality which was strong enough to stand against mediocrity and compromise no matter what the cost may have been to her personally. She could not give in to mediocrity. She could not. She would not! In the process, even though she may have been difficult to work with at times, in her inate fairness, she also impelled those who worked with her to higher levels of excellence.

As I posted some days ago, I have been pursuing the concept of "excellence" and "quality" for some time. What are its hallmarks? What are its earmarks? How is it that we can separate out from the crowd those things which are excellent and of great quality?

I remember watching a T.V. show many years ago now. I did not know anything about ballet and this PBS special was about some ballet thing. I sat down to catch a few minutes of it and I saw a group of dancers come out onto the stage and begin to twirl and pirouette in the beauty of the dance. Suddenly, a dancer exploded out of the group and began to leap with such power that I was drawn in to his persona immediately. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms and I whispered to myself, "Just WHO is that man?!" It turned out that "that man" was Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Even though there are other great YouTubes of Baryshnikov dancing, I selected this one because I liked the contrast between him and Gregory Hines (who is also a very good dancer). Yet, even though Hines is very good, I love the restraint and control that is apparent with Baryshnikov. There is a tightness, an intensity, an almost imprisoned sense of power that is only released in momentary couplets which add to the movement's enormity and which entraps the viewer and draws him into a unity with Baryshnikov as he dances. Even though I am not dancing when I see Baryshnikov dance. I am dancing when I watch Baryshnikov dance, for he pulls me into himself and I no longer an impartial viewer; I am dancing with Baryshnikov.

While looking at Mikhail Baryshnikov YouTube clips, I found this one with Alice Waters. The things which she said encapsulated the concepts that I so appreciate and long to do: to impel others to excellence and quality in their own way.

So, just what is it which is the hallmark of "excellence"; the earmark of "quality"? The word "excellence" contains within it a timbre unlike any quality that surrounds it. Perhaps, ipso facto, it is the bearing which comes from the commitment to the process itself. If the process is seen as a job, it loses an aspect of its life. If it loses its life, it loses its excellence.

Thoughts on Children and Excellence

I've been thinking lately about whether young children have an almost instinctive ability to recognize excellence. One of our granddaughters has just turned 4. I grant you that she is an "old soul" who has a tidy as well as a pensive personality. She loves her books and gathers an alpine mountain to take with her when she is called upon to nap or prepare for a night's sleep. This child went to a friend's house and when she came home she said to her Mother, "Mama, ____ doesn't have any good books. Mimi (that's ME!) has good books."

What kind of books do I have for her when she visits? I have the classics with great pictures and rollicking stories. I am determined to spark a desire in all my Grandchildren to continue to pursue excellence in their lives and to be alert to those things which are commonplace or ordinary so that they will always desire to reach for the best that they can afford.

This has been a quest of my own for many years. What constitutes excellence? What is it about an object that denotes "quality"? I found a book many years ago entitled Art In Everyday Life by Harriet and Vetta Goldstein. Granted, it was an ancient book. The book's photographs went back to World War I. Yet, many of the concepts within this book were timeless. The Goldstein gals believed that those things which surround us in the dailiness of our lives influence how we think. If we pursue artful beauty, even in the smallest detail, we will become enlarged in our conceptual thinking. They also maintained that the lack of money does not militate against surrounding yourself with things which are beautiful. I really appreciated the comparison photographs they used which juxtapose good design against bad design, even though the photos were ancient. It still helped.

Because I have been largely self-taught and find that I have to be alert in order to stumble across helpful information; this book has been a help to me. I'm sure there is a book which is more contemporary that deals with the same topics and is filled with even more helpful information, but I'll have to inadvertantly amble over it! My husband's homily expression: "Even a blind sows finds an acorn every now and then.", conveys my own not-very-scientific process!

Back to Ernst Haeckel

I have always thought that Haeckel's detailed, colorful, and almost surreal images would make great embroidery designs. Some time ago I got a Dover book with his art (Art Forms In Nature) and a book printed by Prestel Press Art Forms From the Ocean
I have yet to do an embroidery design based on his images, but I must say that I believe that my entry into "art journaling" can be somewhat attributed to him. I started art journaling because of my fascination with diatoms. I did research on them and drew them in my journal while my fascination expanded. I was impressed with the realization that God created each one of these minute plankton-like creatures which are so small and seemingly irrelevant in the grand spectrum of things. Yet, the Lord created each one, and He knows where each one fell and died. The amount of the silica shells left behind from the diatoms is so enormous that there are massive lodes of them which can run miles deep. Bulldozers now tap into these lodes and scoop up uncountable diatoms to sell as "diatomaceous earth". I think it is ironic that silica shells, which lived and died in the ocean, now help keep slugs at bay in our garden. These absolutely beautiful shells which are too small for us to see with our naked eye, are so perfectly formed that scientists use them to calibrate their microscopes.

All this makes me realize again that size is not important....

New Bookplates!

I ordered bookplates from The Black Apple at Etsy and they arrived today! Everything about them was fun; it was like receiving a mid-summer gift. Inside a cardboard mailing envelope with a cute red address label (addressed to ME) was a glassine envelope containing 15 very cute book perusing-girl-riding-a-swan bookplates. The business card is also adorable.

I will enjoy using these little gems!

Miss Read

In my reading in "Village School" by Miss Read, I discovered a thumbnail sketch of her writing philosophy. The tiny concept follows a telling of the funeral for the school manager on a fine spring day, and of her, the schoolteacher's decision to read to the children from The Wind In The Willows, during the time of the funeral. Miss Read writes:
"Out there, in the churchyard, the black silent figures would be standing immobile around the dark hole. Above them, no less black, the rooks would be wheeling and crying, unheeded by the mourners. They would stand there, heads downbent, with who knows what emotions stirring them...pity, regret, the realization of the swiftness of life's passage, the inevitability of death. While here, in the classroom, sitting in a golden trance, our thoughts were of a sun-dappled stream, of willows and whiskers, of water-bubbles and boats...and, I venture to think, that of all those impressions which were being made on that spring afternoon, ours, for all their being transmitted, as it were second-hand, would be more lasting in their fresh glory.
"Thoughts by a graveside are too dark and deep to be sustained for any length of time. Sooner or later the hurt mind turns to the sun for healing, and this is as it should be, for otherwise, what future could any of us hope for, but madness?"

The book, Village School, was copyrighted in 1956, a mere 9 years after the horrors of World War II. During Christmas break, Amanda, Michael, Bernie and I were talking about the influenza pandemic of 1918 which took so many lives. My own grandparents were sickened by it, but survived. Michael mentioned that it was amazing to him that this was such a devastating incident and yet one which was little talked about. We wondered if it was because the epidemic followed so closely on the heels of World War I and families were still reeling from the losses of that war. To put upon them the thoughts of these senseless additional losses from the ranks of their young and strong, was too much to bear. So it just wasn't discussed. They put it behind them and tried to move on, lumping the flu victims with the war victims.

I relate to Dora Saint's (aka Miss Read) writing mission. I am not demeaning the need to seriously consider ramifications for our actions, corporate or personal, and I am not endorsing shallow thinking. However, when I sit down to read, I do not want to be shoulder another set of unsolvable problems. I am surrounded by unsolvable problems already. I do not want to shoulder the sorrow of the world's inequities by hearing anymore about them. I have a sensitive nature that does not need to be brow beaten by humanity's inate viciousness. I would rather offset the dire by the recognition that we take ourselves altogether too seriously sometimes and it there is definately a time to laugh and enjoy the moment.

That is what I am wanting to do in these years of my life: enjoy the moments and treasure what the moment shows me, knowing that it will pass all too quickly.