Thank you all for your comments to my last post! I'm usually slightly melancholic when I get back home from Singapore and I often feel like I'm processing my soul even as I recount the highlights of our trip(s). It is always wonderful to receive comments on any post, but the ones in which you share your own stories with me, are my absolute favorites to read. Knowing there are so many different kinds of people out there, with so many different heritages, cultures, backgrounds and life circumstances, who actually read my blog, makes the world feel both a little smaller, and much, much bigger.
Can I also say that there are no wrong questions in culture? By that, I mean that I know of many people who, understandably intimidated by a culture different from theirs, choose not to ask questions about it, for fear of being unwittingly offensive. I don't speak for anyone else, but I personally am very happy when people engage me about my culture. It is true that in the process, people have also made the odd presumptuous remarks or stereotype, but even those were largely unmalicious, and I appreciated both their candor and their courage far, far more than I was ever truly affronted (if at all) by their seeming ignorance. So, ask on, if you are so moved! I don't think we should ever be afraid to learn about someone else.
The vacation is now over. It is time to return to work.
And the sewing room beckons.
Because so many of you emailed and convo-ed to request them, I'm making marker pouches for you guys!
Incidentally, have I ever shown you the new(ish) sewing room?
LiEr's sewing room in fake-clean condition (this is totally a posed shot).
Behold: there's even a mug of tea - as if I'd actually sew with hot liquids
within arm's reach, just asking to be spilled on precious fabric!
The room itself is the same, incidentally, as are the wall art and closets (and their contents).
I did, however, throw out the old, tiny table and put in a new, bigger one, which is really a butcher block countertop on some IKEA cabinets. It seems everyone's sewing table these days is made of IKEA cabinets and some plank on top, isn't it?
Now, I'd have made my table even larger had it not meant sacrificing floor space. I love my floor. I use it for cardboard stuff, to draft, layout and mass-cut fabric, and plan just about everything else. Especially during Halloween, when there are circular skirts and costumes to be designed and made. A person simply cannot lay out a circular skirt on a table; even if a tabletop of that size could be constructed, one would still need long enough arms to reach over the edge to access everything. So no: since I have puny arms, crawling on the floor is better for massive layouts, I think.
Also worth sharing are those lamps hanging overhead. My sewing room is a dungeon. It's semi-basement, and the lighting, even from that window, is woefully inadequate. Digression: I love sewing facing a window. If I had to sew facing a wall, no matter how pretty, I would feel like I'm in jail, or perpetual Time-Out. That said, I know of many people who are happy as clams to sew facing a wall, with no thoughts of clawing their eyes out, so clearly it's a LiEr problem.
Er. . . where were we?
Ah, yes, the lighting. So, after years of experimenting with different lamps and such, this is the arrangement I am quite pleased with. We bought photographic lamps and installed daylight bulbs. Huge ones, complete with those umbrella shade things. Which we then hung from the ceiling on a rod, and I sewed fabric covers for the shades, so they wouldn't be all black and silver. Also, we wired the lamps up so they could both be flicked on with a single switch, and so I could slide along the rod or tilt the shades themselves away from the table and to illuminate the rest of the room for actual photoshoots.
Oh, how I love sewing in daylight, even at midnight!
Because I have an Undungeon now - bright and happy - and it pleases me to no end.
That is, until I'm actually working in it, and my table becomes cluttered and gross, and I just want to run away, screaming.
See those tubs? They're posed, too; usually everything is strewn everywhere and if I find anything among them, it's by faith and luck - or a foot that came painfully down on a poky thing. Don't say you're surprised - after all, people who procrastinate don't usually take the time to organize their procrastinations, do they?