Four-Shot Rob

Moving took a toll on my income.   It was clear that our family finances required me getting a part-time job of other sorts with actual money coming in.  I am very capable and intelligent, but my actual work experience is not going to get me serious money in the job market.  Having been an established yoga teacher for over a decade in MI, I am now unheard of with too few students and too few classes.  And who wants a 45-yr-old chorus gypsy if she can't really dance anymore?

Through my son's baseball team, I met Deb, the owner of a brand new local coffee shop.  As of two weeks ago, I became a barista at West Side Perk.  Back in June, when the shop was about to open, Deb informed me that the shop would be featuring local artists' work and if I had anything to display, I should let her know.  Which got me started working on small felt paintings this summer.

With my thoughts full of coffee, I made a brief sketch and then fleshed it out in detail in wool.

Then came the usual felting.  Wet, soap, roll, rub.  You know.  But what I ended up with was far from pleasing.  The wool wasn't evenly distributed so areas shrunk at different rates, the entire piece pulled awkwardly in different directions.  I had a completely different being on my hands.  Still vibrant and interesting, but not working as a single painting.  I cut apart the pieces.  I was thinking they could be a set of coasters, but the time and materials make them way too expensive even at wholesale pricing.  Now I'm working on figuring out how to mount them individually.  I'll keep them a set, but a set of four that can be rearranged however the lucky owner chooses.  I'm calling it Four-Shot Rob, in honor of one of the regulars at the coffee shop.  Guess why we call him that?

All in a couple days' work

 

I used to keep my sketches and inspirations in a drawer.  That will no longer do.  A trip to IKEA, a power drill and some anchors (and some culling of scraps that I no longer remember why I kept), and now I have an idea board on the wall my work table faces.

Plastic floor covering from Lowe's and some indoor/outdoor duct tape and the carpeting is now protected from water. Finally, I set out some materials and start back to work.

The skinny forest is not an original idea.  Sometimes, to move into a new skill (felt painting here), I take someone else's design and see if I can make it in wool.  This was from a photo of a mass-produced painting for sale in a catalog.  Don't worry.  I won't sell it.

Drip dry after felting.  It is a good thing I know by now not to judge them when still wet.  They are never as nice when you first hang them up to dry.

A crinkle scarf trying to push its way toward a muted Spring.

Yarn and wool become a scarf, a necklace, a belt.  Your call.

A Skinny Forest felt painting for my studio.

It feels really good to be back at something like normal.