Buttoned Up Beauties

Some sweet little button/brooches from Birthine from Copenhagen, Denmark. Incredible craft, color sense, and of course good use of red thread. Makes me want to loose a button or two. Happy Friday!

Red Threads

I can't seem to get enough of embroidery lately. And I think a lot of the world feels the same way. I don't know is it's my Swedish petticoat showing but I'm really loving the red threads I see out there. Some choice stitchers I've come across lately- First from rocks in my dryer, second from whimsiology, third from liliesovalley, no. 4 from minceco, five by foxesandrobbers, six by courtney, and the last by chartreuserepublic.

5.18.10 Color Swatch

 P  A  N  T  O  N  E    N  o.   1  9  2

red. 
please don't take this the wrong way,

because i would hate to get you mad,

but i do like you very small.
there have been times it was helpful

to have you as large as the sky 

to fill stadiums for me.

because of you
i didn't have to say a black word

to exes and should have been exes

bosses lovers friends

but for now i like you itsy bitsy in my rooms

my little red button

so mighty with so much 
altoid muscle

you can knock over any green with envy jerk

with just a glance, raised brow

or give the kiss of death
with just a peck on the cheek

i love you in my corner

a cube in my paint box

a thread in my dress

a feather in my cap.

be mine red

you little drop

of life

love you 

red

Wedding Hat No. 38 for Brin + Alex. Photo by Paul Clancy.

Poem for Monday

I live near a river, which reminds me every day needs to be like a river. What comes by for me, what I catch, what I remember to do is what I have for this minute. Today. And that's all I need to have, to do, to be. Because if I don't catch it, remember it, do it, it will come for me again. When the time is right. But Robert Bly says it so much better.

People Like Us

by Robert Bly

for James Wright

There are more like us. All over the world
There are confused people, who can't remember
The name of their dog when they wake up, and
     people
Who love God but can't remember where

He was when they went to sleep. It's
All right. The world cleanses itself this way.
A wrong number occurs to you in the middle
Of the night, you dial it, it rings just in time

To save the house. And the second-story man
Gets the wrong address, where the insomniac lives,
And he's lonely , and they talk, and the thief
Goes back to college. Even in graduate school,

You can wander into the wrong classroom,
And hear great poems lovingly spoken
By the wrong professor. And you find your soul
And greatness has a defender, and even in death
  you're safe.

For more of my rivers you can go here.