Archive for the ‘Old Houses’ Category

toftwood 2ndtry

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I am here to tell you that this snap of brutal cold has sucked the creative life right out of my soul. I think about loading up my camera and heading out for some cool steam or snow or shadow shots…and instead, I reach for another chunk of bread.  I invested in two months of a personal trainer at my gym and am now wondering if maybe the trainer can come over and quilt with me or bake brownies, because I have entered into fully locked down siege-mode.

A brief warming spell is forecast for the next 2 days and then it is a re-plunge into Weather Hell. I plan to make use of those balmy 30-ish temps to get out of doors and take some pictures.

And I need more bread flour.

My supplies are running low.

Far from the beaches, traffic and ice cream-slurping tourists, a peek at the interior of Door County.

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Three of the buildings located in the same odd little settlement as Sunday’s window post.

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A nice Marquette County blend of house reds.

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Marquette, Michigan. A small building suffering from benign neglect, tucked into a shabby little lot and surrounded by a tangle of weeds.

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An “Iron ore pocket dock?” Is this related to the Popeil Pocket Fisherman?

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I am just amazed that there is no apparent upkeep or care for this exquisite little building.

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On the backside of Main street, downtown Negaunee. Same block as the Wabi Sabi Wonderland Architectural Salvage Shop and Rust Emporium.

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In Negaunee.

I should have been patient and set the scene for these pieces with some street and building shots, but I started to play with a few close-ups and the next thing I knew…

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So, I’ll show you the street next time. This was the rear yard of a resale shop connected with the community theatre. Had I worked for days, I couldn’t have set up finer groupings.  Treasures. Everywhere you looked: treasures.

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What’s this?

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If I remember correctly, part of an old street lamp.

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Lastly, a close-up of the guys from the larger picture above. I swear they are in a pub and singing. Singing what, you ask? 

One, two and three Jolly Coachmen, sat in an English Tavern. And they decided, and they decided, and they decided…to have another flagon!”

I’ve shot these buildings a couple of times, but no matter how often I’ve tried, I’m never exactly sure what  I am looking for. Mostly, the shock value is such that, while I’m framing up shots, I’m chanting in my head: Holy Mother of Pearl! Holy Mother of Pearl!

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I realized a while ago that I see the faces of many buildings as art quilts–huge expanses of geometric figures grouped together in pleasing patterns. Following that idea, I enrolled in a series of quilting classes through the technical college and have proven to be, quite frankly, a horrible student. I resist printed instructions, precision (“what is this quarter inch seam of which you speak?”) and anything that remotely smacks of traditional.  I will throw myself in front of a bus if I am ever forced to create something involving a sunbonnet or a goose. (Bus service doesn’t run this far out of town, but I swear I will drive myself INTO town and then throw myself under a bus should that sunbonnet scenario arise.)

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 This next shot really does work as a quilt:  all these wonderful strips and chunks that match-but-not-exactly-match, strung together and appliqued on top of each other in an artfully wonky fashion.

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I have a class Tuesday afternoon. When my instructor sees what I’ve done to yet another perfectly innocent chunk of fabric, I’ll bet I can predict her reaction: Holy Mother of Pearl! Holy Mother of Pearl!

I am currently crazy in love with this picture and would like to enter it in a juried show that is coming up soon…but I’d also like to enter a very powerful under-the-freeway black and white in that show as well. The two pictures do not pair well together.

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I would not have this picture but for the persistence of friend Marjorie. We walked over to the farm-around-the-corner Sunday afternoon. I’d already sworn up and down that I would not enter any barn or tumbledown outbuilding no matter what,  yet….one “Oh, my! You must see this!” after another “Patricia, there are no spiders right here ” lured me, first to the doorway, then one tentative step at a time further into the tool shed until I was all the way in.

And, as long as I was in there, I decided I might as well take some pictures.

More from Ultima Thule.

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Send good vibes my way: this is my last week with students and I am crawling to the finish line. Oh, for but a teaspoon of the adrenaline that fueled my first three weeks!