The Ruffler Rig

I FIGGERED IT OUT!!!



My sewing machine came with drawers full of parts, feet, and attachments, of which I knew how to use none. It is on my List, to figure out if any of them are usable enough. They are a little rusty, and there's a good chance they were original with the machine in 1922.

I don't know how it happenned that I couldn't get anywhere the past months, when it turns out yesterday singerco.com has no only photos of various feet/attachments, but also PDFs of manuals, and, for some, even a video demo!

Out came the Ruffler, or, "that thing with the crab pincher"



I FOUND the instructions, but I'm way too smart and proud to a c t u a l l y make us of a manual, so I saw the picture, eyeballed the position, and ran to fetch mine. It took 3 solid minutes of wiggling, rocking back and forth, and staring blankly before it all made sense (but not before I almost crushed the table, trying to press the entire foot mechanism down with the bottom of needle screw, as opposed to hooking the "pincher thing" OVER the needle screw, which, if you were half way clever, is the ONLY way to get the whole little rig moving to do what it does. Which is, MAKE RUFFLES!



The big screw on top of the Ruffle Rig regulates how deep the ruffle is:



Screwing it tight and to the bottom makes them deepest, letting it far out makes tiny shallow tucks.



My attachment has settings for a pleat every stitch, or a pleat every 5 stitches. In the middle is the "rest" groove, if you need a break from ruffles, and don't want to switch out feet.



I cut into some of my left over cotton from Danish Chairs covers, and then remembered the machine also came with a drawer stocked full of bias tape of all sorts. I picked out the one I'm least likely to use for a sewing project, and experimented with all 3 yards of it.




I am AMAZED that something like this actually DOES something. I mean, it's a couple pieces of steel, few screws, a 'pincher' a 'toothy metal plate', and a 'tiny sprocket' * Not to mention that the whole deal attaches to something powered by my feet or hand only. If all in the world went wrong, and we ran out of sunlight and electricity (these things could happen) I could still make ruffled curtains by the candlelight, all day every day.

This might only be new to me, because I have since found these online, and for newer machines.

Next, it light of this development, is the ruffling of the Green Fluff that is to hang behind my living room curtains. I've been meaning to stitch it and gather the stitching, and stitch again to a ribbon, but this might be easier. I think I have 180 inches of Fluff width, and a 102" window, so I have to figure out what fuffle setting is going to give me a 102/180 ratio.

On my list of Mysterious Attachments now is the Tucker. I found a picture of it, which is how I know what it's called. But it's not the same as the PinTucker on the singer.co site, it's a thingy with a whole mini ruler deal attached to it. I don't know that anything can match the ruffle excitement, but I will try.

Letter Re: Dad's Birthday

Day after we left Pacifica, my step mom followed up. I love children's commentary on the conversations we have when at their house, where poor artists are "losers" and my dad's favorite antique chairs are "pile of crap" and that having to use coasters on a walnut table is causing them "emotional distress". I love her letter, below.

Hi Snork baby,

Thanks for great pictures! I look terrible in them but the rest of you look great. I'll show the folks at Treasure Cove the mirror picture.

Pop had a fun birthday. He was so happy you called him, and Valentine called him. We walked down to Pacific's Chinese Restaurant to eat. Sasha and Frances were so upset about walking. They looked at each other incredulously and Frances said, "Do you know what this will LOOK like?" Sasha finished for her, "A FAMILY WALKING together?" They looked horror-stricken.

So we all followed Sasha, who led us through the yards (nowhere near where cars might pass and see us), through the back of the school, along the deer trail where we encountered a buck and a feral cat, and past the broken fence through which the pot-smokers crawl to avoid police--and we emerged from some pampas grass practically AT the door of the restaurant. The way back was more direct as it was dark and the likelihood of being seen was far less. Still the three little kids walked well ahead, with parents like two stalkers behind. All was well until Anastasia shone her new lazer-pointer party favor at a police car and they ran the rest of the way home, leaving us behind with the cop. He was busy setting up his speed trap so we got away this time.

Then Dave/Angela and Joey came for cake

So papa is officially fifty, and so happy that you all remembered him!

Too bad about the boobs on your form. Maybe you can get plastic surgery.

And you figured out the chandelier, how the pieces go. I never thought of that combination. I'm sure you've got it right! I'll be watching for those crystals. Maybe will have some left over from my other chandelier.

Love to you & Jessie. We'll see you in a few weeks!

~E

E is for Evil Stepmom, and she's really the best stepmom around. I got pretty lucky with my moms. (:

Pacifica, the Fog, and Debbie's Attic

Jesse and I occasionally spend weekends up in Northern California. We both have family up there, and Jesse used to live in Brentwood (village, middle of nowhere).

This weekend it was my father's birthday, and I had spent both Thursday and Friday wrapped up in so much sicklyness, that I wanted a nice relaxing weekend out.

We stay with my father, they live over the hill from Rockaway Beach in Pacifica. I like it there, it gives us a nice break from constant SoCal sunshine, and right now, the heat.

Home of the Fog Fest:


Their house is filled with artwork and neat things, there's a forest of eucalyptus right outside, children pick rosemary and mint in the garden outside, it reminds me a little of a Ukrainian village. It's not over populated, there are hills clean of houses, and you can walk to get anything you need. Sometimes we go into San Fransisco, and to the Russian Orthodox church on Geary St, or to the kids' ballet perfomance, or to shop for Russian grocieries.

This time we just relaxed and wandered around town. On Saturday, we hit Debbie’s. Debbie's Attic is an antique/thrift/junk shop that has become affectionatelly dubbed Debbie's Dumpster and we visit it when we're there, along with couple other shops on the street where everyone knows my family. From Debbie's Dumpster came the word 'dumpstering', which is what kids called any activity that didn't involve buying nice new shiny stuff at Ikea, ie yard sales, antique/junk shops, etc.

This time we weren't just looking, Debbie's still (hopefully) had the Giant Frame I want to frame my TV in on the Bright Yellow Wall. We were there with purpose, especially since I had called ahead to check measurements, negotiate price ($75) and sent Linda (stepmom) to measure it and take pictures. While I was sniffing around the frame for chips, cracks, and any unpleasant odors associated with other people's dead skin, the price got dropped even further, so we finally loaded it in the truck.

Aaron Brothers wanted $550-720 for a frame, Debbie wanted $50.


The Next Coolest Thing to a Giant Frame:
For 10c, it is all mine, and I am planning my choice of fabric. Sadly, PatternReview.com had no record of 9777, so I'll be a pioneer of sorts.

An Awesome Chandelier That I Would Totally Buy If it Wasn't $350. (And if Jesse let me) (and if I had room for one)
It's not Jesse's day though, cause my stepmom gifted us a chandelier before we left. HA. It needs crystals and parts, and for me to figure out how it is assembled. It'll be a whole project!

There's also a dress form I've been stalking there. I'm making progress, it was not for sale the the previous two times I asked, but now they've taken my phone number "in case they want to get rid of it". Yes, I know, they promptly threw out my number, but it's progress regardless. I will call weekly to check up.

We drove around to the only Starbucks, the other little shops and even a yard sale, where there was a 24 x 48 (standard canvas size!) painting/frame - I'm always more interested in frames to frame stuff I paint/copy/paint. Anyway. It was $1. How do you walk away from that?

The One Dollar Frame That Couln't Be Left Behind:
The painting is kinda cute too. For now, it is gracing our garage.

We all also walked to Rockaway Beach and hung about Rockaway Antiques and the beach at sunset. I wanted nothing to do with the walking part of the hill walking, but it was a good way to work off the plate of cheese I had eated for lunch. (Sliced Mozzarella, Thinly sliced lemons, Olive oil, Mint leaves. Be careful)

I really do love living in CA:





We had dinner and tea outside with the chimenea running, and I briefly contemplated going out into the forest to stalk deer. I settled for a chimenea/paper ball competition where Jesse taught children obnoxious behaviour and Trash Talking 101. It was ugly. But it reminded me of my graceless winning by cheating at Scrabble (obnoxious gloating thrown in always, free of charge) and why he's perfect for me.



We were froggy about getting an early start next day and almost succeeded, at 4pm.

A yard sale in the middle of nowhere? I think I will! Turn Around!!!


I did really well this weekend not adding to my Collection of Random Things I Could Really Do Without, and here it all went wrong. Who knew? They had tractors parked in the front yard! Tractors!

They also had a pair of incredibly dusty, mid century modern tables. I asked how much they were, AS A JOKE. Anyway...

...$8 How could you not?


(The wood logs are in case I'm ever stranded and need a stool, a table, or a campfire. These things happen!)
Yes.. yes, I'm very ashamed of myself. We ALMOST made it home with no "pieces". I think Jesse and I have a $10 threshhold problem. Seriously, you could probably sell me an extra appendix, as long as its under 10 bucks. I need therapy.
But, BUT! I really do not intend to keep these. Mostly because I don't like the way they look (except that they match perfectly my chairs) But also because (Jesse tells me) there's really no room for end tables of this sort anywhere in our place

I just got super excited about breaking out the strippers, stains, varnishes, etc, and playing with these to refinish them. I figured at $4 dollars a piece I could afford to play with them, and it looks like I can throw them up on Craigslist or Ebay thereafter. I hear some crazy people do their whole houses in this pointy-legged Danish theme.

Hello Bacteria.

a.k.a. Do You Know What Costs $96 and comes in a tiny stupid little bottle?

Cipro, the liquid suspension. True story.


Don't let the picture size fool you, it's 2" bottle.

Apparently, diluting it to .3% and swishing around with some HCl raises its value. Neither Cipro (the antibiotic used for anthrax) nor HydroChloride-anything seem like things that ought be around eyeballs, and it stings accordingly.

Then came a raging bladder infection. (Can you even type that in public?) I drank my weight in cranberry juice and blueberries, then resigned and got more Cipro. This one in nice horse tranquilizer sized pills.

All this came crowned with a cold type deal, and possibly stomach issues as it's rebelling about the amounts of cranberry juice (one botle - 1140 calories!!!)

So, I'm sulking, dissolving in a puddle of snot, eye goo, and tea and chewing on some herbal supplement type deals. I think they work. My mom got them a while ago at Whole Foods, (Osccilocotum? Really questionable spelling there) I'm toying with getting more, but it's $17 a box, and taken every 3 hours, and I have no proof that they'll keep working once I stop taking them. It might be cheaper to cycle a full blown cold. More perks too, I think.

FML

Nora, the Duct Tape Scarecrow.

I’ve mentioned how I want a dress form. But I want a cool dress form, with a pretty iron or wood leg, (carved gargoyle feet and a faceted crystal ball on top optional) because it’ll probably end up hanging out a lot in my living room, and I don’t want a plastic contraption with spidery feet, screws, and dials.

Awesome dress forms I can see myself having:

I feel like they would really balance out the look of my appalling sewing adventures.
Nobody in their right mind would have me sew anything for them, so dials are useless anyway, as long as it’s my size. So, I am looking for a 34 bust (sigh), 29 waist, 40 hips dress form. I can pad the boobs and the butt, so I’m not obsessively picky. If it’s got gargoyle feet and 44 hips, I will drag it home, bust out a bread knife and trim stuff like it’s my job.

There was one in a Rags to Riches thrift shop in Newport Beach, but by the time I went home, thought about it, and came back a week later it was gone. “Sleeping on it” FAIL. This led me to stalk Craigslist and campaign that all my Facebook friends everywhere do the same, but meanwhile, I am still form-less, so I thought I’d make a duct tape dress form.

The good – it’s cheap and if you get it right, it's your body copied, 34" chest and 41" hips and everything, so when a pattern looks funny on your dress form, you know you gotta worry.

The bad – you gotta expect to hang out wrapped in trash bags and duct tape for at least an hour, probably more, with restricted mobility

The ugly – being wrapped up in trash bags and tape apparently brings out some truly undesirable traits of my personality.

Supplies:
Two rolls of 55yd duct tape at Ace Hardware - $5

Jesse kindly volunteered to be the wrap-er.

I heard about using long TShirt but I couldn’t find one I disliked enough to trash, and then I read feeback about it adding bulk, so I wore a trash bag (thoughtfully cut out head hole and arm holes) and since that was too short and I wanted my butt wrapped, I wore a contrasting trash bag skirt.
Early Halloween:

Jesse started at the hips, which in retrospect was a mistake, and if I was creative enough, could be blamed on him. Had I spent SOME of the time being able to sit, pee, and walk about, it would have probably been easier.
The beginning of the disaster:

May be had I spent less time texting, I'd have noticed the impending tragedy.
The suggested amount is three layers of tape. Boobs, are apparently to be done in a star pattern first, then layered over crosswise by short thing strips, and the whole body done in horizontal strips, than a layer in vertical, and then horizontal again. 3 layers all over.
It gets HOT in there.
About an hour into maintaining a perfect posture, sucking in the gut, and mentally lifting my butt, I crab hopped to the mirror to find out that either Jesse messed up or my boobs are 2” apart height wise. At first Jesse swore his taping was perfect, but quickly saw his mistake and retracted all. Morning emergency boob corrective surgery averted, but I still check them out in the mirror every once in a while. Way to accidentally happen upon a complex..

I spent another half hour instructing Jesse to wrap me tighter around the waist and hips, looser around the boobs, higher around the butt.. you name it. Shortly after this, I found I didn’t care if 3 layers had been done, I wanted out of that thing. A sweaty garbage bag doesn’t do good things for my psyche. It was ugly.

Jesse performed a semi emergency surgery all along the back of the duct tape, and the underwear. I wore a pair I didn’t like preemptively, so he didn’t get in trouble, and I thought the fact that he didn’t gouge my back too much was very sweet.
Taping the scarecrow back up:

I’m pretty sure Nora (she has to have a name) needed another few layers. I couldn’t do that, because of the freak claustrophobia outburst, plus, I had a freak delusion that that extra layer would r e a l l y ‘pudgy’ me up. The rubber fumes went straight into the bloodstream I think.

I read online that the form when taped together can stand on it’s own. Nora can’t stand. She collapses to the floor and her boobs cave in.

I stuffed her with balled up trash bags I had from Coastal Clean Up Day 2009. All wrong. Trash bags are slippery, and it was OK once I taped up the bottom, but when I went to dress her she was soft and pliable and the boobs wouldn’t survive under any pressure.
Note the ominous writing on the bag:

Next stuffing idea was newspapers, of which I didn’t have enough.

Next came the insulating foam stuff, that was on sale at Ace for $2.99, the stuff you spray into walls and it hardens into foam, and you can cut it with knife.
I expected it to expand all over the place, but was disappointed. No duct tape went flying through the house, and Nora didn’t morph into Dolly Parton. One can barely filled up her shoulder.
The good thing is the hanger is now fixed in there. It’s in there all crooked, but I’ll take it. The stuff is vile, and once it gets on your hands, only a good cancerific bath in acetone takes the edge off. The formal instruction once it gets on your skin is to “wear off with time”. That tells you something.

I think because the duct tape form is too thin and soft, the foam may have blown the once stuffed boob out of shape. Not because it expanded so, but because I had it hanging awkwardly so the foam mass would stay in the shoulder, and once it hardens, it makes the duct tape take its shape. It also sticks to the inside, so I can't really wedge the nozzle in the there and pump more foam.

Before I continue I will wedge a piece of cardboard horizontally where the rib cage is, to keep the form from expanding into a round shape.
I will finish this up, and see how it turns out. I think if it’s a complete failure, I will try again, get more layers on, so I have something stiffer to work with. In all other aspects I really like the foam deal – if I decide to have it on a stand, the foam will harden around it and keep Nora fixed.

UPDATE: Nora has hardened up. I'm loving the left side. The right side speaks for itslef.


The aerial view doesn't do her any favors either:

I didn't fill up the bottom, it took me two cans to fill up the torso, and the boob situation is pretty evident, so I don't want to dump 3 more cans in in vain. I'm deciding if I ought take a knife to her and go all Michael Angelo on her and sculpt me a new boob. May be. I can't throw things away, so I may keep it in garage for next time boredom overtakes me and I want to take a knife to something. I think I can take duct tape off, spray more foam on, wait for it to harden, sculpt away, then cover with duct tape again. Or just decoupage over with some pretty fabric or wrap paper, which is what I'm after ultimately.

Coming up next, Attempt Deux, May Be With Paper Tape This Time a.k.a How Much Worse Could It Be

Sewing your own clothes?

It's the treadle's fault. I feel it looking at me scornfully. When I got it, it came with drawers full of bias tape, trims, bobbins already wound with all types of colours, threads, and magazine articles about clothes. It clearly made stuff in the past. It makes me want to. Plus, I have to prove to Jesse that I CAN and WILL actually use it, in case I need to argue in the future for another piece I find and want to drag home.

On one hand, aka, The Bad:

Cost. The pattern at $15-20*, fabric at $9/yd, plus thread and things like bias tape, interfacing, ribbons, or zippers, or, if you’ve vowed never to use zippers, cause they’re scary – then hooks, (3.67 for package of four!!!! – I know I won’t be sewing any alluring-hooks-down-the-entire-length of the back pieces. Whatever I make had better get closed up with 3-4 hooks, and the rest of world will be subjected to the rest. There’s also slithering into outfits that have no open/close features, and knit fabrics, which, I hear stretch) – stuff is expensive. A dress on clearance at Gap is, like, 16.99 (It won’t be the pretty dress, but definitely structurally sound).

Time. Drive to Gap from my house – 3 minutes. Sewing a dress – 2-3 weeks, and 80 cups of tea. And, it’s very likely (absolutely certain) that it takes someone in China same amount of time to whip up a shirt, that it takes for me to cut out the pattern pieces and decide if I’m size 6 or 14, or something in between. By the time I have a 4th cup of tea, figure out the right side of fabric, and spread my patterns to cut out, FedEx is flying the dress over to Gap. Or Ann Taylor Loft**. Wherever.

On the other hand, aka, The Good:

If I was good at it, I can probably make some nice outfits. Which I’m not. But I could be.

With today’s fashion (of which I have no concept) you can leave your house in just about anything, as long as you manage to wear it with a straight face and look at ease.

It helps to live in Southern California to maintain this kind of mentality. Where furry Uggly boots are OK with tiny shorts and bikini tops, how badly can I screw up, really. If you spend a day tugging on your hemline and adjusting shoulders, people might assume your dress doesn’t fit. If you wear a dress proudly, never mind that it’s turned ¾ backwards, has selvage edge for hems, and rides up on your left leg like an excited puppy, people might assume that’s a dress so exquisite only you and a few privileged models somewhere get to indulge. At least this is what I tell myself.

Why I like the idea of it:

I am oh so cheap. The only patterns I ever bought were $3 max during sales at JoAnn’s, (Or less. Very likely, that less). Helllo JoAnn's midnight madness sale and 99c McCall patterns (Fresh from today. Cause I don't have enough never opened patterns I have yet to fail at):


There's also a few I got for 10c at Debbie's Attic. I'm pretty sure a 50's dress is exactly the kind of thing my closet is missing.

I am oh so cheap part deux: I don’t even go look at regular priced fabric. If it's shiny, and beautiful, and I can picture myself in it (And I CAN), I will want it. I know this, so I don't look. I am just not that good, and watching a $9 yard fabric get mutilated would make me cry. 2-3 weeks is a lot of crying. Hello JoAnn’s clearance aisle and 50% off coupons, aka, Pretty Flowery Purple Fabric for $1.50 a yard. I always look for fabric stashes at garage/estate sales, but all I got so far are yards of beautiful silk that I’m way too afraid to cut into, even though they were a $1 for 2-4 yards a piece.


I guess those chicks were all good. They didn’t wander the clearance aisle looking for a print that isn’t cats. They went straight for the good stuff. They probably knew how to use zippers. Whatever.

I also found an enormous amount of purple fabric, soon to become a Haloween costume. I think. Although I'm sort of intrigued by the idea of a Haloween/Real Life Hybrid dress. May be a detachable train I can leave at home when heading to a mall. All I know is I can rock some gold ribbon like it's my job.


I like it. It’s more mentally engaging than watching TV, more physically active than reading ( I can practically HEAR the calories shed themselves. sNOrT). And it’s eventually rewarding. Well, if you do it right, it’s supposed to be.

I like the idea of picking your own fabric. Hello, shiny, tye dye, and all things formally currently banned by the fashion industry.

And I like idea of eventually being good enough to know how to modify a pattern to fit me well. Right now, I'm kind of hoping to be able to follow a pattern loosely. I am still in the stages of figuring out sizes. My chest, waist and hips put me anywhere between 12 and 16. But, an experiment from few weeks ago, a simple tunic cut in 16, was an epic fail. So was a 12. It got better with a size 8 chest, size 10 butt, and 6 darts total. The darts were never intended to be part of the design, but it was thee only way I managed to not look 8 months pregnant (stiff cotton). I'm guessing I should have cut a 6/8 hybrid, but too small clothes make me unhappy. You can't undart a size into a 10.

Some day I'll learn how to post links to other posts, and I'll link this to the Purple Experiment Dress mentioned above.

Lastly, I have long harbored ambitions to make a quilt. Any failure so total that in absolutely can not be worn, will simply be cubed into the Quilt Pile. Win.

I decided for now, it's a worthwhile little hobby, complete with an incentive and reward program, a chance to look and pet shiny fabrics, and possibly make a couple things to wear so awesome no store would dare carry. Plus, it keeps me off the streets, and most importantly, out of malls.


*I have done no research that indicates either Gap or Ann Taylor Loft stuff is made in China, or shipped by FedEx. I am too lazy to pull out a label and check. The FedEx thing would be dodgy to figure out anyway.

**Any phrase that depicts quantity of matter (time, number of items, price) are likely shamelessly made up/guessed/exaggerated and ballbarked to what sounds good in my head. Actual statistical bits may, (most certainly) vary (a lot).

Coming Soon: How I want a dress form, how expensive dress forms are, how ugly dress forms are, and how I want to try wrap myself in duct tape to make a dress form.

Loony Bin Yellow aka Good Bye Deposit

We long wanted, (I did and talked Jesse into) and finally decided on a colour to paint the living room wall. The TV has to go up on it (I'm still pushing for framing it in some awesome old frame and painting some crazy colour inside, but, we'll see how I fare in negotiations). I even remembered an awesome frame at a place called Debbie's Attic (affectionately Debbie's Dumpster) in Northern California, and sent my stepmom who lives near there to take a picture/ dimensions. I'm nothing if not dedicated.


The frame turned out to be an unexpected, giant 41" x 51", (the TV is 26.5 x 40) but I'm picturing it very small, blended in, and inobtrusive like on a 160" wall. No, really.

Anyway, Jesse brought home all the ridiculously cute little swatches (I wanted at least 4 colours and all the 9 available shades of purple) and after 3 day deliberation we decided on Golden Nugget, a warm orangy yellow, regarldess of how obnoxious the monitor shows it:

I thought it would go well with the gold in the Green Curtains, the yellow in the Mini Couch, and when I finally get to sewing purple pink cushions for the Danish Armchairs, they'd look brilliant against it. I tried very hard to also work in a royal purple somewhere in the room, but got shut down. Jesse 1, Julia 0.

I had a mild panic attack when we got to Ace Hardware, complete with hallucinogenic in-brain flashbacks of the colour wheel, and decided the wall had to be a salmon pink, to complement the Green Curtain Wall.
Salmon Pink - vetoed. Jesse 2, Julia 0.

Then there was a cold feet episode, as I tried to make out of Ace with 3 jars of sample paints, none of which were Golden Nugget, and yanked at Jesse to go "paint stripes on the wall". Luckily, he largely ignored me, and walked out of Ace with a Benjamin Moore Egg Shell Base Golden Nugget Paint bucket and rollers.
One Sunday afternoon later:

The "Before":

The "Now":

We slapped on the 2 manufacturer suggested coats, and went out to JoAnn's to track down Simplicity 8125 Pattern I read about on Chronically Uncool Blog. And Barnes and Noble to look at quilt books (it'll probably never happen but I like to plan). I called my mother to update her on the 'rentmodeling' "Oh, like psych ward walls?".
No. Like sunflowers. Like sunflowers on the Mini Couch I have, and like pure, sunny, rainbowy, beachy happiness, despite what Dostoyevsky and whoever else wrote. Pffffth. I'll make my own symbolism.

"I feel like I ought paint a black line and spell out "Orange County Unified School District" was Jesse's first impression.

"Holy pumpkin sht", Was mine. I went fetched a pumpkin from kitchen to compare and indulge myself fully in the horror, but it was anticlimactic:

I's beginning to come to terms with it, although I'm sort of hoping the TV and whatever artwork I throw at it blocks quite a bit of the yellowness. Jesse is pretty pleased with it, which is also suspicious.

Now, I'm negotiating the possibility of glitter gold paint inside the Old Frame space behind the TV (Who cares, it'll only be a few inches, you'd think I was trying to paint his bathroom hot pink. Twitchy critter.) I didn't even know there WAS such a thing as Glitter Gold Paint (Thanks, H!!) And it makes me feel sad I didn't explore the "painting techniques" before this wall. But, wait - I'm all over the dining room wall. I'm thinking wine red, with black sand mixed in, and possibly still, the glitter gold. I'm picturing an epic triumph of astoundingly beautiful, faint inducing, albeit deposit sacrificing home decor. I would also like to use the remainder of the yellow paint to paint "swirls" on the opposite/hallway wall. No dice so far.

The almost put back together living room - with Green Curtain, Almost Upholstered Danish Chair in Perfect Pink or Purple, and the TV that started this whole thing to begin with:

In a related story, and while Jesse is furiously measuring (yes, in inches) the distances between armchairs, wall and armchairs, the TV and armchairs, to mathematically try bring sense back to this room, I think my next project will be copy-painting this painting I saw in a gallery during October trip to Chicago:
I can practically hear the crazy yellow wall call for it.

For now, the Wall is housing an unfinished Pond/Cattail Village and Paint copied Julie Hensley Adams' Sleepy Chick With SeaShells by Window paintings. (Painting idea and the original are hers, the copy cat execution and naming all me) Picture the TV up a yard and floating in an awesome old frame. With glitter inside.

Too much?