Wednesday, July 30, 2008

My new favorite thing.


This is so gorgeous: Belgian linen printed with Queen Anne's Lace a la the talented Cicada Studio's Etsy shop. I know I just posted on her below, but I can't help it. I want to buy this, use it, copy it, and create somewhat the same thing someday! I admire someone who has the drive to go do exactly what they want, although I can't imagine being wired that way. I'm only fearless in the kitchen, apparently.

Here's another fun thing done by one of my favorite bloggers:

Doodles in an old old book. That would be fun to both do, and pick up and look at later. And find in a attic somewhere in 40 years, and wonder "who did that?" In our house's attic we found a stack of old paper receipts from the 1940s (I think), including some from Krispy Kreme! They were piled in a corner next to an ancient chunk of iron sewing machine. I wonder what they'll find in our detritus someday. Buttons. Scraps of paper. Doodles by the thousands. Old packaging that I can't bear to throw in the trash. Half-read John Piper books, each put down when my poor brain exploded. Dr Pepper lids for a free drink that were never redeemed. Birthday cards from the last 30 years. Hair product bottles with approximately .25 inch of goo left in the bottom.

I believe that sometimes my mind completely leaves me and wanders off somewhere. Today may be one of those days.

4 comments:

Ray said...

detritus \di-ˈtrī-təs\ - a: a product of disintegration, destruction, or wearing away : debris b: miscellaneous remnants : odds and ends "sifting through the detritus of his childhood" — Michael Tomasky

Sorry, I'm generally pretty swift, but I had to look that one up.

Anonymous said...

Nanette and I found a sample of a baby scrapbook page that had doodles all over it. We both said it was just like you! Very doodley.

Kristi said...

Glad I could stump you, Ray. ;)

Anonymous said...

we all have random detritus. at least doodles make sense to keep. i have a lunch ticket from a cafe w/jennie one day, because it has the number 69 on it. the lady shrieked, "SEXTY NINE!" at the top of her lungs and we looked at each other & died. i said, Bet she's been waiting all morning to get there. and also, i have one sock i keep moving from house to house in hopes its mate will magically appear. i loved those socks. or the bottom glue of a candle that has since gone out of production but has no scent left. psycho.