Deer Encounters

Here's a little story I witnessed in our back yard a couple of mornings ago. I was looking out our kitchen window and saw a doe feeding near our deck. Grabbing my camera and opening the door as quietly as possible, I stepped out on the deck to photograph her.

A slight movement caught my eye about 50 yards away. Mr. Buck had noticed me and was headed my way. "No you don't! Keep away from my gal!"

Our cat, Hollie-Three-Bell-Huntress, was sitting on the deck railing observing this little drama. Mr. Buck gave her a look too, but she remained undaunted.

Finally Mr. Buck hearded his Misses in the opposite direction. With one backward, ear-down, warning glance, they departed.

I have some beady things to post next, but am waiting for a day without the current deluge so I can photograph outside in natural light.

Robin & Robert report: Robert continues to regain his strength and move around with greater ease every day ~ the good news. We are not yet sure that the surgery will improve his back pain problems. So far, it's actually worse ~ the not so good news. My cold is way better, almost gone ~ the yipeee news. Thanks again for your good wishes. We both appreciate it.

Improvisational Bead Embroidery ~
Great Example by Karen Cohen

Karen Cohen, who learned improvisational bead embroidery from my book, One Bead at a Time, just sent me this photograph of her recent accomplishment. It's a frame for a mirror. Isn't it grand! This is the kind of frame I need... where I'd be looking at the frame all the time, and not my own face. I shouldn't kid about this... it really is an extraordinary piece. The more I look at the details, the more I see. Take a look at some of her work featured here and here (earlier posts).

By the way, if anyone wants an intensive workshop with me on this subject at an absolutely gorgeous place, check out Valley Ridge Art Studio in WI. The class is Sept 8 and 9, 2007. As you know from my recent post about teaching, I plan to retire from this part of my beady career soon. So if it's something you've wanted to do, this may be the last chance.

Here's a quick update on Robert's surgery. It went well; the surgeon was pleased with himself. Although he still has to deal with a lot of pain, Robert improves a little each day. We're home, I have a doozie of a cold, and he needs to nap a lot... quite a pair. Thanks to all of you for your good wishes and crossed fingers, toes and eyes... it all helped!

Progress on
Boston Commons!

If you've been following my blog for the past few weeks, you know I've been working on a king sized Boston Commons quilt. I have to admit, it's been rather character building. I even had to resort to rewarding myself with a mint for each seam completed.

The construction method starts out easy enough. You cut fabrics in 3.5 inch strips and sew the strips together in sets of three or so at a time. Then you cross-cut the strips into new 3.5 inch strips, which then contain one block of each of the fabrics in the set. (Is that about as clear as mud? Good thing I'm not trying to write quilting books!) The sets are sewn together to make long strips. All that went pretty well for me. But then comes the big challenge... sewing those long strips together in the correct order to make the fabric of the quilt top. Ironing the seams wasn't easy either. I mean the quilt is 101 inches square!

Here is the top complete except for the very last seam, sewing the two halves together along the diagonal. I had dreaded it. But, in fact, it wasn't so bad. All the little blocks lined up fairly smartly, bless their little hearts.

Here is the completed top. I'm sooooooo happy to have it finished! Now, I have to piece the fabric for the back side and find someone to machine quilt it. Maybe we'll have it on our bed by Christmas. Wouldn't that be glorious!

On a personal note, my husband, Robert, will have back surgery (spinal fusion) on Friday. We live on an island with a nice medical clinic, but no hospital. So, we'll be going to a hospital in Bellingham for this surgery. He has tests scheduled for Thursday, and will probably be in the hospital until early next week. We both have a very positive attitude about this, believing he will finally get some relief from four years of constant back pain.

I'll be looking forward to catching up on your blogs and writing again soon after we return.

To Teach
or
Not To Teach ~

That Is The Question

Reading through many of my favorite blogs in the past few days, I’ve noticed a similar thread ~ concerns about teaching. Whether your field is beading, doll making, quilting, collage art or painting, if you’re good at it, sooner or later you’ll face the question of teaching. Someone will ask you to teach, or someone will tell you that you should teach.

Here are some questions to consider:

1. Would teaching be fun? Would you enjoy teaching students how to do what you do?

2. Would you be a competent teacher? Do you have the ability to explain and demonstrate what you do in such a way that your students could get it?

3. Do you have time to write proposals and handouts, prepare samples, make up kits, pack it all up and travel? Will your earnings justify this amount of time away from your studio work?

4. Do you want to share your creative process, techniques and designs? What if some of your students become your competition ~ copying your designs, selling items they make based on your designs, or teaching your class?

I’ve been teaching beading for 19 years, and I’ll tell you one thing from experience, it’s hard to say “no, thanks” to a teaching offer. But it is OK to say no. Your reputation will not take a dive to the bottom of the muck. You will still be admired and loved for what you do.

In my experience, teaching takes much more time than you might expect. Preparation and travel time before teaching, plus travel time and time to put everything away after I return generally adds 5 to 10 days to the actual teaching time. To teach a couple of classes will take me out of my studio and away from my own work for about two weeks. If it’s a new class, there’s an additional time commitment to write handouts and make an adequate number of class samples.

In 1986, when I quit my “regular job” and began doing beading as a business, I took a long hard look at just what my new career might be. In the ‘70s, I had been a part-time metalsmith for five years. I made gold and silver jewelry to sell. The making part was way, way fun. The trying to design what people might buy, trying to second guess the market, and the actual selling of it was a drag. So, I decided not to go that route with beads. I made a conscious decision to do beadwork for fun, and to make my living by selling beads (and beading supplies) and teaching.

For the first few years, I taught workshops in my studio. I decided that I didn’t want to teach specific projects so much as to teach technique and design process. So my classes tended to be at least one full day, many of them two days or more.

At the time there was no competition, no web, no bead magazines, no beading books in print. My classes filled (or didn’t fill) by word of mouth and a little newsletter I sent to my growing list of students and customers. The bead shop craze of offering 2 and 3 hour make-it-and-run classes with good cash to be made from selling the supplies was not yet known. So I got to teach exactly what I wanted in the way I wanted to do it. Those were the most fun and rewarding years of teaching!

Out-of-state Bead Societies (and various guilds) began to get word of it, and soon I was being asked to travel to teach my workshops. This was a little more stressful than teaching in my own studio, but still lots of fun and very personal. I loved the travel aspect of it. Often I would have two long-weekend classes, with days off in the middle – time to see a little of Hawaii, Anchorage, Santa Fe, etc., under the gracious guidance of whoever was hosting me.

As bead shops sprouted everywhere in the mid 90’s, they began to fill the need for local classes. Yet, they seemed to gravitate toward offering shorter, more project-oriented classes. Many of the more experienced students seemed to crave longer, more intense, more design-oriented workshops. And, I set about to fill that niche as much as I could.

I call the period from 1998 to the present “The Proposal Era,” the years when I was always writing proposals to teach at national conferences, art schools and regional events. Often these venues do not pay the expenses of the teachers, only a small per-student stipend. To make any money, one has to have large classes, teach as many classes as possible, sell kits and stuff (beads, supplies, patterns, books, etc.) I tell you it’s exhausting to the max. And to prepare for teaching at an event, such as the Quilt Festival or the Puget Sound Bead Festival, takes a tight schedule, careful planning, and several weeks of steady work.

In the beginning, I felt special. I got to know my students and to be somewhat of a mentor to them. I felt important. It fed my ego to be asked to teach in a state where I knew nobody. It fed my passion to think I was contributing to the spread of beading as an art form. It fed my art, as I strove to make more and better examples of the techniques I was teaching, unhampered by the need to sell my work. It fed my creativity, as I was inspired by my students and learned from them in countless ways. And, it fed my pocketbook by providing a reasonable living. Eventually it led to writing my first book, One Bead at a Time, which practically wrote itself because I’d already learned how best to teach what I know, how best to inspire and give confidence to my students.

But, here’s the bitter pill about what’s happened with me. In recent years, I’ve found that teaching has gotten less and less personal, less rewarding, and takes much more time in proportion to the amount earned. It exhausts me, drains my creative force. The truth is, I can stand apart from myself as I’m teaching, and notice that I’m not giving it every ounce of my energy as I once did. This, I fear, is the time for me to wind down the teaching part of my career.

What will be ahead to produce income, I really don’t know. It’s “new beginnings" for me, a time to be open to possibilities, to be conscious of the passions and yearnings from within.

To those of you considering teaching, I hope my experiences may help in some little way. To those of you who have already been teaching, if you’d like to add questions to the list at the start of this essay or tell about your experiences teaching beading or other art forms, please feel free to make comments below or link your blog to this post.

Boston Commons Quilt ~
In Progress!

Before beads, in the 60’s and 70’s, I made a number of full-sized bed quilts and quite a few baby quilts, mostly using appliqué techniques. Since then, I’ve only made two wall-sized quilts, plus I've used log cabin quilting techniques for extending beadwork for handbags.

About a year ago, I joined Rainshadow Quilting Arts, the local quilt group on San Juan Island. It’s such a warm and friendly group of talented women, with interests and experience in many types of quilting. How could I not get hooked?

At our fall quilt camp last year, Kitty Sorgen was sewing the binding on her Boston Commons Quilt. Here’s two pictures, one showing the whole quilt, one a detail so you can better appreciate her fabric choices.



Smitten with Kitty’s quilt, another member, Kris Phillips asked Kitty to teach her how to do it and to help her with fabric selection. As soon as I saw what Kris had made, I was over the top ~ with wanting one, of course. Here is the one Kris made, and a detail showing her fabrics.



Now this is not a difficult quilt to make… nothing like one of Allie’s crazy quilts or Debra’s pieced lone star quilt. All it is, really, is cutting 3.5 inch strips of fabric, sewing the strips together, cross-cutting the sewn strips into new strips, and sewing the new strips together. If it wasn’t for my back giving out at the cutting table, it should be possible to complete the top for a generous king-sized quilt in about three long days.

The quilt is worked from the diagonal in both directions. Here is a grid that I colored with approximates of my fabric colors. The grid came from this fabulous site, full of free grids of various types that can be sized exactly how you want them and then printed. I’m nearly finished with the sewn strips, and to the stage where I’ll sew those long diagonal strips together to complete the top.


Here is a picture of my quilt in progress. It’s complete out to fabric number 10, and I’ve started adding the next set of strips.


I’ll try to take and post a picture (later) of it at it’s current stage of completion, which is out to fabric number 18, with only three to go. By the way, the fun part of this quilt is selecting the fabrics. Unlike Allie’s recent post about the enjoyable, on-going process with her crazy quilts, for me the sewing part is pure “character building.” Maybe I should try crazy quilting. It would be more like improvisational bead embroidery, which I adore doing, and which is always an absorbing process. Yet, no doubt about it, I will love having my new Boston Commons quilt on our bed!

Does anyone have a good (tried and true) recommendation for a reasonably priced machine quilter? If so, please email me: robin[AT]robinatkins[DOT]com. Thanks ;>)

5 Weird Things About Me…

This is the first time I’ve been tagged (thank you Allie) to do a meme. While I’ll try to be honest, I just hope that my husband, Robert, doesn't make a comment on this topic. Now there might be a meme… 5 things my spouse/partner thinks are weird about me. Shhhhh!

1. Except for the very hottest summer nights, I wear flannel nightgowns. The weird thing is that I love to hang out all day in my nightie and not get dressed until I have to. In fact, although it’s already 10 am, I’m still wearing my faded old faithful at this moment. Yes, I’ve gotten caught… delivery people around here and our neighbors should be getting used to the spectacle by now. Long ago, I had a job that was 5 days on, 5 days off. On my off-days I made gold and silver jewelry in my home studio. One time, I was getting ready for a show, working hideous hours at my bench. You guessed it! For three whole days I made jewelry in my nightgown!

2. I’m date and time impaired. Neither sticks in my brain. Shortly after moving to the island, I agreed to teach a class for the quilt guild (spirit dolls). At 10 am on the day I was supposed to teach, I was in my studio (yes, of course, in my nightie & robe) messing with a current project, when two of the guild members arrived. I saw them coming up the trail, and thought, “Oh dear, here I am caught again in my you-know-what. Why don’t people call before they come?” Well, turns out they had been calling for an hour (class started at 9 am), but the phone in the studio wasn’t working. Happily, this goofy situation does have a good ending. The gals rushed back to my waiting students with class samples, handouts and instructions for getting started. After the speediest shower of my life and a few minutes to assemble materials, I was on my way. My gracious, forgiving students agreed to stay later and chalked up the two-hour delay to “island time.” A bevy of post-it notes, computer calendar, wall calendars, and reminders to my friends to remind me generally keeps me out of deep waters.

3. My throat/esophagus/tummy growls (long and loudly) at inappropriate times. The first time I remember this happening was during a silent prayer at church when I was a teen. Here are a few other times it’s happened: ~ drive-in movie, first date, the hero and heroine are about to kiss ~ senior prom, posing with my boyfriend for a professional photographer ~ during a job interview ~ while taking tests in school.

4. I absolutely detest it when at the bottom of a cute/funny/thoughtful thing received by email it says: send this to 10 people immediately. Even more irritating is when it says …or your luck/fortune/friendships will be broken. I never do it. If I want to send it to someone who might enjoy it, I always remove the directive at the bottom before sending it. While this meme is fun and I actually enjoyed getting tagged, the part about tagging 5 others falls into this weird thing about me category. Therefore, I won’t be tagging anyone specifically. Of course, if you’re reading this and would like to put 5 wierd things about yourself on your blog, please do!


5. Our cat, Hollie-Three-Bell-Huntress, loves to roll in the dirt. She has her favorite spots, one near the trail to the studio, one by the little bridge on the trail from the garage to the house and one by the fire pit. Nothing like a good roll in the dirt!!! That’s cat weirdness. But how ‘bout this? One thing I love to do is nuzzle my face between her ears, where her fur is ever so soft. Predictable story here… She’s on her favorite haul-out place, the back of the living room rocker (picture above), and I give her the customary nuzzle not knowing she’s just had a roll. Yup, a mouth and snoot full of dirt is my reward... happened more than once.

Now that all of you "get dressed and take a long walk before breakfast" people have had your chance to feel virtuous, please consider yourself tagged ;>)

Comments Off...

Listening to Saturday Night Blues on my favorite radio station, KPLU, I’ve just been catching up on a few special blogs. One of them is Layers of Meaning. The author, Serena, has disabled comments on her blog.

Can’t help thinking about that… What would it be like to blog with “comments off” and “counters off?” Wouldn’t there be a sense of freedom?

Years ago, I took a “process painting” class where the underlying assumption was that we would NEVER show our work to anyone. The idea was to work on a large canvas, painting up close and personal, never stepping back to judge or evaluate our work, and never looking at the paintings of others in the class. My paintings were different than anything I’d ever done or have ever done since, and it was an amazingly liberating experience. Yes, I do have them still. I only showed them to one person, and that was someone I trust with my darkest secrets.

Turning off comments and counters is different from that painting class, because I know people might still find and read my blog. Yet, similar to the process painting, there would be less of a sense of responsibility to meet the needs of known viewers, and less of a desire to please them, rather than myself. For example, right now, I’m feeling pressure to find an image or two, suitable for this post. (Maybe you’re thinking, “She COULD show us her paintings!” Me too, but I’d have to find them and photograph them, and their associated memory of freedom might then slip away… so instead you get a photo I took from the tip of San Juan Island during a storm last winter.)

Surely turning off comments and counters would make blogging more of a diary writing experience. The sense of community (that is boosted with every one of your comments and every time I see another country’s flag on my counter) would be lost. I adore being part of this community in all of its struggles and victories with the process of art. Without that, I’m not sure I would blog. But Serena does… and she does it well… and for a long time, starting in October 2003. I wish I could tell her how much I enjoy her writing and images.

Another blogger I greatly admire is artist, John Stewart, who does A Drawing A Day. While comments on his blog seem to be enabled, I’ve never seen one posted. To that end, I posted one today. Maybe he gets a ton of them, but doesn’t approve them to be posted, which would make it look like he doesn’t get any.

Writing and answering comments does take time. Yup, sometimes a lot of time (especially when you have to retype the code over and over again). So I guess more time for art would be another small advantage of “no comments.”

For now, I’m keeping both comments and counter enabled, because I love the dialog, the feedback and the support. It’s great to feel connected to people in Canada, Australia, UK, Columbia (most recently)… as well as closer to home. Maybe our blogging and through it our sense international connection contributes to world peace in some small way.

“If we have no peace,

it’s because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”

Mother Teresa

Fabric Conversations...

Kitty S., a talented quilter, colorist and teacher from our local quilt group, is offering an informal class to several of our members on making a Boston Commons quilt. I can’t do the class, but decided to do the quilt anyway – king size!

Saturday, Kitty and another gal who recently completed one went fabric shopping with three of us who intend to do this thing. There will be twenty different fabrics in mine! Here they are, in the order that they’ll be placed in the quilt. The center of quilt is the fabric on the left, and it will build out from there in the order shown. Click on the picture to get a better look.

Perhaps more important than color, value, scale and design, I think fabrics also have personality. There are silly ones that you couldn’t take to dinner in a fancy place – playful ones that shout for a romp in the sprinkler – sedate ones that like to sit in the back pew at church – and so on. As we were selecting mine, Kitty often mentioned that one of them “talked to another.” Looking fondly at my new quilt babies this morning, I started thinking about them as characters in a play, having conversations with each other.

You may have noticed that my characters are all over the map – batiks, dainty floral prints, stripes, plaids, polka dots, abstracts, large scale florals. How can all of these different types of fabric get along together?

Let’s look at the whole cast one more time.

What could we name this play? What about Jungle Exploration? What about Tango of Love? At the moment, I’m leaning toward Family Reunion. We probably would not call it Desert Dreams, or Revenge of the Grunge Singer, or Country Bride. Given this particular cast of characters, what might you name this play?

Indulge me for a moment… let’s explore this concept with regard to specific personalities. Here are some of the conversations I imagine in the play:

Blue-green Lattice Batik says to his son, Tiny Blue Flowers, “Come on kid, lets go shoot some baskets.” Watching them fondly from across the room, Dragonflies murmurs, “Chip off the old block. Our son will grow to be as handsome as his dad."




Blue Batik is sitting on the sofa between her sisters. Her elder sister by less than a year, Periwinkle Polka Dot, is calm and composed, the scholar of the family. Both sisters are concerned about Violet Floral, who is young, impetuous and in love for the first time. “You are always such a wild one, dear,” says Blue Batik. "Stick with us, and try to stay out of trouble today.”




Violet Floral replies, “Trouble? Fat chance! Look at Stripes! You think YOU keep me under control? Ha! So, you’ve noticed I’m crazy in love with Spiral Batik? Ooooh-la-la! Right! Well just try to keep us apart – I dare you!”



Pale Hydrangea waves at Pink Floral across the room and turns to wink at Bright Purple Floral in the kitchen. She says softly to herself, “Without us, this play would be rather dull. I am gentle, fresh and pure. My light reflects on all the others, emphasizing their brighter qualities. I don’t need many lines to be of influence here.”

Green Plaid, out in the garden, is having a conversation with his grandson, Purple Batik. “Congratulations,” he says. “You and Bright Purple Floral are a great couple! Your strength of character, orderly without being boring, compliments her almost child-like willfulness. You’ll do well together.”



Well, OK, I never said I had any talent for writing scripts. I’m sure some of you could do far better. But the point is, fabrics do have personality. They can speak to each other across the boundaries of color, value, and style. Hopefully my selection will continue their conversations with one another throughout the second (sewing) and third (using it) acts of this play.

Anyone care to give us some samples of conversations between Dragonflies and Wild Batik? (Remember, Dragonflies is married to Blue-green Lattice Batik and mother of Tiny Blue Flowers, or so the script says...)

B is for Beads...

B is for Beadlust, which swept me into a glorious beaded pathway back in 1985. Beads are my passion. Mary, a reader here, sent me a surprise package of beady treasures, which arrived yesterday. Oh heavens, it was grand! I’ve bought beads from traders and in China and in all of Eastern Europe; and bought beads at countless conferences from countless vendors; and bought beads from bead shops in countless states; and bought countless books and magazines about beads… You’d think maybe I’d seen them all. But no! This little package arrives, and beadlust bursts forth as I examine each of the precious little treasures within… all of them new to me… not one of them a duplicate of beads in my more than ample stash. Don’t you just love it!!!! Thank you, Mary!

B is for Bike, which I have, and Biker Babe, which I guess I am. The gentlewoman in me doesn’t like either of these terms and would prefer Motorcycle and Motorcycle Rider. But those words don’t start with B, so for now we’ll go with the vernacular. The picture below shows me with my third motorcycle, a Suzuki 800 Intruder, which I bought in 2004 and have ridden a little over 5,000 miles since. Generally when I tell someone I ride a motorcycle, they will say, “Oh! Do you ride a Harley?” With apologies to Janet and her purring cat, Harley, my response is emphatically, no! I rode on a Harley once as a passenger… one time was more than enough. They are excruciatingly loud, vibrating, testosterone-loaded pieces of junk. Do I have a strong enough opinion on that one?

B is for British Columbia, the westernmost Canadian province. Riding two old (1979) Honda Goldwings and my Suzuki, Robert (husband), Matt (brother), Karen (Matt’s wife, riding as a passenger), and I just returned from a 7-day motorcycle ride through BC and the Jasper-Banff part of Alberta. The second day out, riding from Pemberton to Lilooet, was BC at its scenic best. Here are a couple of pictures from that day.

B is for Beaver. Robert has a special affinity for beavers, and has been collecting Beaver Wood for some time now. Many barkless, tooth-marked branches and sticks with chewed ends embellish our property. They are branches with remarkable history… once a growing tree, then part of a Beaver building project, then washed down some stream into a river, then flowing into the sea, then found by Robert on one of our beaches, and now standing as a reminder of Beaver Wisdom by our front door. As we drove by Green Lake off the Cariboo Highway, Robert noticed some Beaver Work. A few minutes later he pulled to the side of the road and requested that we return to take a better look. And pictures. Of course, a couple of the chips came home in his pockets. Could Beaver be his totem animal?

B is for Beautiful. So many things are beautiful, although many times it’s an inadequate word. For example, if you’ve ever explored the 150-mile Icefields Parkway between Jasper and Banff, you know what I mean by running out of beautiful and all of its synonyms in the first 3 miles. In 2000, Robert and I (as passenger) did the ride in sunshine. We could not go a half a mile without stopping to snap pictures (film cameras at that time). Our fingers were sore and we’d each shot over 400 exposures by the end of the day. Clearly, it is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. This time, the weather turned early winter with near freezing temperatures, rain, sleet, and even some snow around the ice fields. This is challenging on motorcycles, and requires full involvement on the part of the drivers. Yet, even with that, it was beyond beautiful… the way the clouds wrapped themselves around the mountains, the way the rocks glistened with wet, the way the new snow glowed even under dark skies. Robert (whose passion is photography) took many more pictures than I did, and maybe when he gets them processed I’ll share a few of them. Meanwhile, here is one of mine. As good as any photo may be, the amazing beauty of the mountains, streams, glaciers, fall colors, smells, wetness, snow, straggling wildflowers, and wildlife remains way more clear in my mind than in our images.

B is for Bull Elk. On the grounds of Becker’s Chalet, our lodging near Jasper, a herd of elk has made a nest for themselves over the past year or so. They seem to have no concern whatsoever about all the tourists with their cameras. You can see one of the calves and a cow below. It’s rutting season, so the Bull of the herd was a bit testy, putting his head down and starting a charge toward the camera crowd on several occasions, driving people to hide behind trees or shrubs, or flee to their cabins. The evening of our arrival, a smaller Bull came to challenge Mr. Dude… quite a visual and auditory spectacle! For hours we heard the other-world sounds of them bugling at each other, and sometimes the crash of their antlers. Mr. Dude ran back an forth along the boundary of his turf, in the woods just beyond our cabin, keeping Mr. Intruder to the other side of his cows and calves. Mr. Intruder attempted again and again to get through to the herd, but failed on this day to get past Mr. Dude’s ample rack. I tried to take pictures, but didn’t get any good ones due to the distance (I wasn’t about to get closer!) and the speed of the Bulls.

B is for Back Roads. We love Back Roads, Blue (on the map) Highways with only two-lanes and no traffic, the sounds and smells of wildlife, farms, streams and rural living, the slowed down pace, both physically and mentally. We ride the Back Roads as much as possible. Here is a picture taken just beyond the Washington side of a little-known border crossing, Nighthawk, west of the main highway down the Okanogan Valley. Imagine stopping along a narrow road by a small building, waiting for the one and only customs officer on duty to appear. Not a single other person or car in the vicinity. Sweet!

B is for Birthday. Today my odometer clicked past number 63 to the 64 marker.

B is for Blessings. Sixty four years filled with more blessings than I can count, including you, dear readers! I’m Blessed to have had a Bountiful life so far, with eager anticipation of more ahead and no unresolved regrets.

Rabbits & Bead Embroidery ~

Note: Vacation time for Robin!!! I'll be back in the studio September 18th, and back to blogger as soon as possible after that. Show'n'tell you all about it when I return.

Meanwhile... with all the pictures of rabbits in my previous posts about totem animals, I never thought to include pictures of how they seem to find their way into many of my bead embroidery pieces. Here are a few detail images.

Have a bunny good week. See you soon!