Noodling about on teh interwebs (as I am wont to do) I came across this delectable ocular feast, presented by Theresa Honeywell.

The first thing I saw was the motorcycle cozy.

I fell in love instantly, because I can't get enough of the eloquent tension of opposites. Soft v hard, masculine v femenine, shiny v matte, pointy v smooth, machined v handmade; the dialogue, when done properly, can be both a delicate balance and an elegant ballet.

Theresa's motorcycle cozy is all of these things. In an article written by Andrew Sullivan in The Atlantic, she explains her initial inspiration: the dreaded toilet paper cozy.

Yeah. The toilet paper cozy. I know, right?

How many of you, when confronted by a roll of toilet paper in what's clearly ultra-secret, "I Can't Believe It's Not A Wedding Cake," The Spy Who Wiped Me mode, go looking for alternative hiding places for a different roll? I just don't want to disturb The One That Has That Hallowed Spot; it's special, and I don't want to leave the poor cozy hollow and purposeless.

We're probably all familiar with the style that sports a Barbie(TM) jammed down the middle of the tube. The skirt of her voluminous dress hides the roll of toilet paper, as if toilet paper ought to be out of sight unless on the spool for immediate use; the need for a spare roll being shameful, unspeakable, and unacceptable public evidence of excessive living.

Theresa has pondered these things too. She considers the lonely housewife who (she imagines) had no better way to spend her time than crafting this excellent over-the-top dust and pet fur magnet. Then she goes a step further and embraces the concept of "[item] cozy", and creates a cozy for objects other than just toilet paper. Things that are hard and harsh, and could do with a little softening and "girl-ing" up. Such as a motorcycle. And she does so, using the same medium used by countless grannies and charity afghan crocheters and frugal knitters (I've used it) across time and space: she uses the cheapest acrylic worsted available. Awesome.

I don't remember if my grandmother ever sat on my uncle's motorcycle, but I suspect that if I got close to Theresa's pink cozy-covered motorcycle, it would probably smell comfortable and familiar.

It is a very sucessful conversation between opposites. Not to mention one kickin' yakuza/harajuku ride for the Power Puff Girls -- which, naturally inspires another round of opposites: there's something very old and familiar about this that takes the viewer back to church basement craft fairs. Yet undeniably, these textures and colors are all over the hottest fashion trades and reflected in pop culture. It's granny and glam.

I needed to see if there were more interesting objects covered in compelling ways, so I headed over to Theresa's website.

Way. Too. Thrilling.

(Jackhammer.)

In all of her work, there is a common thread. Yarn. Well, she uses both. Anyway. The commonality is the perpetually contrasting stereotypical push-me-pull-you of the brash macho world thrust hard against the soft world of what is womanly. She uses the medium that is taken traditionally from women's work to either cover (and therefore, soften and femenize) Man Stuffs (seriously: the Jackhammer.) or artfully recreate a medium first practiced by Men.

(I'll just acknowledge here that tattooing and other body arts have been practiced the world over, for time out of mind. Men, women, and children have been marked on a variety of occasions for countless reasons. The type of tattoos recreated in Theresa's art are specifically the sort of tattoos that originally were designed by and for men, in Western Culture, in modern times.)

Her lace tattoos are worth volumes of words. Please visit her website.

Having a tattoo to hang on the wall really appeals to me. Consider how less painful these tattoos are to acquire than the traditional in-the-skin tattoos. Consider even more that they will not change shape (ahem) DAILY. Stretch marks, scars, dye absorption, etc.: not an issue here. It just seems like there's even more room for exploration with this medium than skin; not least because eventually, everyone runs out of skin... don't think I'm trying to talk you out of a tattoo, though! I know they are an important rite of passage for many.

There's also the added advantage of not having to heal after one of Theresa's tattoos. I would argue, in fact, that they may be a medium of healing, themselves.

Spend time gazing at these intricate layers of webwork. It's mesmerising. It's delicate and powerful. The imagery is at once familiar and mysterious. These pieces grab you by the retinas and don't let go. It's a bit like entering a miniscule, multilevel labyrinth, and you want to meet the Minotaur.

Her technique: She sews on air (yes, seriously. I suspect I know how she does it, but I'm not giving away any secrets.) just go and look. You simply have to see them. They are delicious.

Heartbreakingly labor intensive, and gloriously densely colorful. Like medieval ecclesiastic vestments, slightly twisted, rooted and blooming in a rainforest grown over a kryptonite landfill.

When you visit her website, please be sure to make careful note of her upcoming exhibits. You (like I) will want to see this up close and in person.

going back to look again,

-->rebecca.

 

Thank you all for your thoughtful and personal responses to my post about my breast cancer scare. I'm humbled and honored (though unsurprised) to be among such strong and resilient people. Keep up your vigilance for your own health and the health of those you love.

Seek out free clinics if you have no insurance. If there isn't one in your community, speak to your health provider. A compassionate doctor can often find ways to help the patients who have financial difficulties.

One thing I failed to mention about my experience was that, being adopted, I have no family medical history. (I know that in this I am not unique, as well.) There was nothing in the file at the social services agency which brokered my adoption. This makes potential diagnoses and prognoses of future health issues (not just cancer) a little like flying an airplane in the fog without instruments. I'm in the peculiar process of searching for those strangers technically referred to as "biological parents", though I'd remove the "p" from "parents". All I want is medical history. I don't really want any other strings.

On the subject of strings, however, I have a very cool link for you today!! (Ahem. Moving from "fibroid" to "fiber" now...)

Needle'nThread has frequent giveaways, usually by way of random drawings. Head over to her very informative embroidery blog and answer the two questions in her Comments. I hope you win!! The November Giveaway is a rich stash to get a noob started, or a glorious array of "ooh, silky" for an established stitcher. Plus, a Jenny Hart book!

Act fast -- she's drawing the winning name on Tuesday, November 18!

crossing my fingers for your good fortune,

rebecca.

 

...just like real life.

A year ago today, I was recovering from the lumpectomy which was performed on me a year ago yesterday.

If you want, you can read about it HERE. (There are multiple posts about the experience, you might have to click on the "November 2007" link in the archives.)

My story had a happy ending. On November 9, I was told that the biopsy came back negative for a negative result: I was then and remain cancer-free.

I'm writing today as a reminder for you to check your breasts and the breasts of your partner, too.

Yup, even guys. ANYONE who has breasts is potentially vulnerable. Men are vulnerable to breast cancer, too. It's not as common, but because it's not as common, it tends to be more deadly. One of my professors died of breast cancer. He didn't live to see his final exhibit, which was about the humilliation he felt about dying from a disease he wasn't "supposed" to get.

YouTube considers breast self-exam and testicle self-exam videos to be for 18+ only audiences, which is ridiculous. So here's a link to a family GP's website with videos showing how to do both clinical checks. I love his grandfatherly delivery. I recommend them whether you've had the instruction or not!

I know it's a grim subject, but rather than hiding our heads in the sand, it's far better to go searching for the thing that isn't there for reassurance. Then, on the day we might find an irregularity, we are better prepared to face that battle. You know. Kind of like all those fire drills in grade school.

You know you're not alone, right?

yours, vigilant in health and health awareness,

rebecca.

 

Before you read further, one word of caution: this movie has no relation to the Repo Man I first thought of, the one with Emilio Estevez and the kick-arse sound track. I assure you, this one will carry on the tradition of a kick-arse sound track...

I'm expecting the folk at Threadbanger will have a ball with this, just as they did with Sweeney Todd.

How about if readers of The AntiCraft beat them to it? They haven't posted anything related to this movie. Yet. Show us what you can do! Come up with your own amazing creations (NOT limited to clothes) based on the smorgasbord of visual delight that is Repo! The Genetic Opera!

Crank the volume, and hit "play".



If you're lucky enough to be somewhere that gets this movie, shout out the name of your city/ send up a flare so we can all descend upon you be envious. And try to out-craft you. (Psst!! Those of us unlucky to live outside of major movie markets may enjoy the bits and pieces that are freely find-able all over YouTube.) Otherwise, patience, my loves!! It's bound to be released on DVD and Blue-thingy!!

Just LOVE Anthony Stewart Head. Sarah Brightman, though? THAT'S a surprize and a bit of a delightful puzzle. Paris Hilton seems like a satisfying carve-up. (... she says, crossing fingers...!)

grateful that eye candy is calorie- and fat-free,

rebecca.

 

Attention, dear Whovians!

I know you're out there. This one's for you US.

Before you hit the "play" button, I challenge you to contemplate this: would YOU eat seeds from this fruit???



Well. THAT bar's been set pretty high.

Drooling. Simply drooling...

rebecca.