Under Da Sea

 "I'm free!"

                              Mollye Addison Casey

And, when your 3 and in love with Ariel, Aunt Meg gladly obliges.

Wouldn't you if your niece pointed to her feet, and proclaimed, "Aunt Meg, look at my fins!"?

I fell in love with the glitter ribbon.
And that became my inspiration for ocean water in that cotton top's locks!

 Thus, a handmade seascape applique was a must on my to-do list for this little lady...

 I drew it all by hand with the boys help one night,

 The monogram just so in that yummy tomato red.

 And, I drenched my creative self in tiny accents and details making Ariel as beautiful as I could.  The red ruffle ribbon hand sewn this-way-n-that really gave the vibe of voluptuous flowing locks underwater.


Did I just use the adjective voluptuous for a Disney character?
Um, yeah I did.

And, I opted for a blue-green swirl of threads for her eye color.
Perhaps, this gal is in Ariel's lineage, no?
I do love my eyelash curler; perhaps Ariel does too.

 And check out Sebastian!  Casey was pretty adamant that he have the black wrinkled lines under his eyes.   Nice detail investment by my little guy if you ask me.

 Flounder was made using my mom's vintage yellow variegated knit.  I always try to put a little of Mollye's namesake in any hand crafting I make for her.

Ahhh, my personal favorite...THE TAIL!  I fused a gross green netting to an electric blue shiny material (that quite possibly could've been the same fabric used in my sophomore year prom dress made by mom) to create the scales for Ariel's fin.

Tricky, but so very mermaid.

And, alas, Eli spotted this pre-gathered fabric in Mollye's favorite color one day while supply gathering for k.Mac, so we had to whip up this couture no-brainer!

The answer is yes.

Yes, Mollye must have matching bows with every outfit made by Aunt Meg.

I love that the seashells are actually ones the boys collected while visiting Aunt Tee-Tee and Tone-Tone this May.  

And, after all that...Mollye was Ariel the mermaid for her party too!
You'll have to go check the party duds out here.

She's "free!"
I can remember this day 3 years ago like it was yesterday.

Happy Birthday, Mollye the Mermaid!
You make my heart so very happy!

Love,
Aunt Meg :)

Choices! Choices!

It is high time to get back into the swing of things in k.Mac's cyber world.

Let's celebrate with fabric!  Ahhh, fabric.  I love you so.

Macbook, I love you too.  

{AND, I AM SO GLAD YOUR BACK ON MY LAP!}

I have a client in beginning the design process with me.  She is having a little girl; her second to be exact.

After discussing with her the little one's name selection, my client's hobbies & interests, as well as colors she is drawn to most, I gathered fabric collections that seem to most suit her.

And, here they are:

I rely strongly on colors a client is drawn to as well as their hobbies & interests. And I like to request the little tee-tiny one-on-the-inside's name as I love to consider what personality this newborn may be.   

It is important to me that the custom design I create be a perfect fit for the mama and the baby.

And now, I ask you to help my client out!

Of the fabric collections above, which one would you choose?

Can you tell I'm a bit over zealous with with graphic computer capabilities?

I mean really it's been 8 WEEKS a long time without a computer...

.mac :)

The Hunt

Sometimes I wonder where peace and balance unite.

Is it somewhere in amongst the confusion and solidity of the universe?

Could my ebbs & flows be the rippled waters tickling the sandy grains of shoreline?

Or can I find myself in the mighty & thunderous waves as they apex and descend intimidatingly in the marvelous blue unknown?

Better.

It's what we all innately long to be.
Better beings.
Better living beings.

Yet clouds of chaos rumble,
Time lines and deadlines command response.
And quality slowly steps aside as quantity plays the lead role on center stage.

Better beings.
Better LIVING beings, yes.

And so it is in my quandaries of less vs. more, I stop from time to time and look for their rendezvous spot?
That location.
You know, where peace & balance unite?

And like an adeptly keen bird dog with a fresh wet nose to the ground, my heart races to tail their scent and track them down.

And with my heart on the hunt, I am victorious.

Heart over head.
My heart in His hand.

Reminders...
For one and for all.

.mac :)

{enhance}

Underneath.
Thin.
Precise.
An array

of     c    o   l   o    r    s.

peacock
persimmon
electric avenue blue
cobalt

Above.
Broad.
Smooth.
Supple & robust.

liquid or pencil

I delight in your embellishment.

.mac :)

Droplets

Tender.

Swift.
Yet unapproachable you are,
For vulnerability proclaims your presence.

I am enveloped by you.
And with no scheduled appointment, we meet.

In times of happy joy, you trickle full.
In times of sorrow & doubt, you rage.

Your performance always commanding.

Your release...right on time.

Sequestering me from my pride;  you revel in your now.

I am yours.

And, I am always better after your stay.

{TEARS}

.mac

Tucked

{no photo}

Do you have any idea what the above type does to me?

I am typing with a very non-flattering cringe all up ON MY FACE right this very moment.

I have always known I was a perfectionist.  I can clearly recall being just 4 years of age and taking great joy in adeptly maneuvering hospital corners while making my lil twin bed adorned with my handmade-by-mom Holly Hobby bedspread. 

I can remember with great precision how I would climb into that twin bed to produce the least amount of ripples and wrinkles; I had it down to an almost exact science at four.

AT FOUR.

And, then when mom and dad would come to tuck me in at night I would require and vehemently request just a kiss on the forehead so as to not disrupt the covers any further.

I would sleep on my back with my hands to my side straight.

The visual is much like that belonging in a funeral home now that I think of it.

With all these precautions taken, I am sure it is no surprise shock to you that I would wake up only to de-robe the entire bed and make it all again from scratch.

Can one prescribe anxiety drugs to a four year old I ask you?

And I will spare you of my door-closing metaphor for life that reverberates in my noggin on a daily basis.

Let's just say wine helps.  

And for those fellow perfectionists out there, does your work ever feel perfect to you?

Cast my vote as no.

So, I like to think that my circumstances, as of late, are for a better reason.

1. 5 weeks sans computer (Come to find out, MacBooks don't like orange juice.  Nope, they don't want a drink, not even a small sip, even if it is offered to them by my 6 year old.)
2. Our family of 4 living in 2 different zip codes as Kenny moves forward with his new job transition.
3. A housing depression in a failing market AND our house up for sale
4. Me, without  hair color for 4 months.
5. ME WITHOUT A HAIRDRESSER FOR 5 MONTHS.
6. The increase and abnormality of strange-ranger black hairs sprinkling my chinny-chin-chin.

Trust me, the last 3 are the most unbearable.

And so, I keep asking myself, where are your hospital corners now, Holly Hobby?

Ah, yes, the better reason.

{Growth}

No pun intended there for my chin hairs, mind you.

I am to step out and stretch.
Look past the controllable as well, control, he ain't there.
He never was.
Perfection? He doesn't exist either.

Reliance, Hardwork, Integrity, Honesty, Laughter, Love, Prayer, and Presence are asking me to tuck them nicely in.

Forget the right angle-fold down and forehead kiss.
Pile in and snuggle full bodied.
Coffin living ain't the life for me.

I am reminding myself daily.
{Growth}

And, I have a call-in prescription for those prickly suckers on my chin.

Prevention and Perseverance all tucked in perfectly comfortably.

Yes, that's more like it.

.mac :)

-wobbled-

This word pop.smacked into my head yesterday evening while running.

wobble

For those who have kept up with my inconsistent spontaneous writings can recollect my love for words.

I find it to be the exact, spot-on description of my life since my last tippity-tap.

Wobbled is just me, yes.

Visually, the word is stable in its stature.  The 2  "b's " dead middle with 2 letters sitting pretty on either side.  The "w" with its broad base plopped right next to the robust & ever-popular "o" as they play cat-n-mouse with the slender side of "l" and "e".


Proportionally unbalanced.

And, I love {just love I say} its silly succession out your mouth.

All tongue-contorting and ridiculous.

Kinda leaving a lofty, loopy aftermath, you know?

And it's meaning?


wobble
verb.
To move unsteadily from side to side repeatedly.
Yep, that's got my name all over it.
Change, I love you and despise you all in one.single.breath.
- I am that lone set of high heels on the dance floor begging for one last song.- The one waking up on the 3rd day of a 5 day vacation in mourning that there are only 2 more days left.- The girl in constant search for a new haircut or color.- The lady in the kitchen taking the recipe and tweaking it once more even though last time and the time before that compliments were received.- I like to make rules, hold myself wickedly accountable to them only to completely neglect their existence in my life all together at any given moment.
Me.
I find myself an oxymoron more times than I can count.
I am the marriage of spontaneity and routine.  
And using this provided space to just let my hair fall down around these shoulders of mine feels right for the now.  
1.  My family will have a new address.2.  My husband is hard at work at his dream come true.3.  I am so proud of him.4.  We have a house to sell.5.  And, there are 9 years of a life here with wonderful friends, feelings and places to bid farewell.6.   But, there will be always be a new front porch for flowers.7.  And, a back porch for sittin' too.8.  I have felt like I am stuck on day 3 of my 5 day vacation since February.9.  Yet anxious to see what new color & cut I will try next.
Spontaneity and routine.Proportionally unbalanced.
.mac :)