Buildings and Apples and Clouds, Oh My!

Drawing boards and sewing machines are two very different things, but we try to spend time at both.

Maybe someday we'll be to the point where we can release our new seasonal designs before the season's in full swing. But for now, we'll just sneak them in when we can.

If you live near us, you'll be able to see them in person, perhaps even buy a couple at Farmer's Market. We'll let you know when. Otherwise, check the shop.

Art and the Artist

Our girls are at an age now where their artistic ability is really starting to swell into blossom. Scarlett has always been the more focused of the two, and would rather color or paint than do just about anything else. She's the cerebral type, and most of the things she creates are planned and premeditated. Not long ago she was working on a redwood forest in her room. She'd paint some trees, cut some out of construction paper, devote some time every day to add to it. When it was done to her satisfaction, after something like three weeks, she picked a new project. All kids do this, but usually more sporatically, leaving things unfinished and forgetting about them. Not this one.

There's this one hard-bound sketchbook she has. Not her notebook, that's for practicing letters. Not a coloring book, not her checkbook or her ticketbook. Not her tablet, which is for doodling or whatever she feels like. This one is for her paintings. Her serious paintings.

If I sound like I'm amazed, it's because I am. But mostly because my own child is such the opposite. She makes art, she paints and colors and sculpts clay and all that but what Mazlyn makes is much more, oh, what's the euphemism here... ethereal. She excels more at performance art. Bouquets of flowers, marker tattoos, songwriting, little installations in public places, air instrument solos, monologues. She's good at all of this and practices all the time, but if it takes longer than five minutes or requires many instructions, you've lost her.

So we've decided to do a trade, Amy and I. She'll give Mazzy art lessons, and we'll give Skiki piano lessons. If it all goes according to plan, we'll wind up with a little more deliberation and they'll get used to hearing scales and arpeggios. Over and over, with intense focus.

Fortunate

I was too busy languishing in Mother's Day relaxation yesterday to post this, but here's a yummy picture to gobble up and a thought or two to go with it.
From the time we're pregnant all through our kids' childhood, we young parents always get that unsolicited advice from older people. It gets irritating at times, sometimes endearing, but lately it's become more clear to me why they just can't hold back.
My oldest child is turning four and it already seems like her childhood is slipping into memory. Most often what the older people say is something like "cherish every moment," or "enjoy them while they're young" or "don't you wish they could stay that way forever?" And it's hard to really grasp what they mean until your own kid loses their baby fat and pronounces all their words correctly and sleeps in their own bed and looks just a little too cute in that miniskirt.
You begin to see what it looks like from the other side. When your kid is gone at school all day, and then just gone.
We're so lucky, is what I'm saying, that we've been able to stay home with them during these early years. We're so lucky to have husbands that go to work all day, and then come home with the bacon and give horseback rides. With what we lack in income, we make up for in moments. Those moments that those people are talking about, that we never missed.

A Day in the Life

In anticipation of our revamped website, we did our first company photo shoot. Like a press junket, now all we need is the publicity. Thanks, Tegan, for the photos, and for letting us borrow the bean.

o, brother

Here they are, the images I was trying to evoke last blog. Amy decided to leave out the picture of the sweat drop that flew from Scott Avett's face onto her eager hand.

This Little Piggy Stayed Home.

Close your eyes. Picture two of the most beautiful men you can imagine. They're singing, they're smiling, they've got it. They play guitars, maybe drums. And they play, I mean, they're good. They have style: good hats, a little scruff, weathered boots, jeans. They look similar, but different enough that each carries his own mystery, maybe brothers. Yes, definitely brothers.

Okay, open your eyes

oh, wait, no. Those aren't brothers. We see them all the time.

This is more what I was picturing.

It's hard to imagine anything more perfect, right? (maybe it's just us.) Well, Amy got a dose of the real thing last night in Chico. Real live Avett Brothers. Yummmmm.

Heavy Knitters

It was almost like my birthday last Friday when we got our first order for a Cabbage Rose Cap from a stranger. Not only a stranger, a Canadian!

The whole time I was knitting it up I was thinking, "we made this hat up out of thin air and alpaca, I created the pattern for it, and finally someone saw fit to pay $45 to touch it and put it on their daughter." Well, something like that anyway.

It's a feeling that Amy must be pretty used to by now, since she has designed everything else.


Well, I was also thinking about another little knitter who contributes much inspiration to our designs:
she learned a while ago by watching a YouTube video. And she's awesome at it. She sits with Amy and watches Planet Earth or whatever and knits while mama hand-stitches guitars and spades. So it won't be long before we can add her to the payroll! That's what kids are for! (I joke, I joke.)