The Kangaroo’s name is Kanga, and the
adopted child is roo(people do read in this house). We have a bear that is named blue, because it
is blue. We also have a sheep named sheepie; a turtle named peek-a-boo because it
was printed on the label so.
Talk about thinking out of the box and
imagination, our child has her rules.
The Kangaroo baby was abandoned because” it
looks like a bear”. And the dentist treat bear was adopted
because it is a
bear, BUT, after a while it looked like a roo.
BEFORE AND AFTER
Originally they suppose to have smiles, but the one that was sewn was taken off, because my boss said so.
The thing I made was small. the purse. not quite related to Japanese cute
kawaii, hello kitty, things. not that kind of cleanness, quietness, and
delicateness. not the transparent pink sakura or the serenity of ikebana.
Lots of searching involved with this small purse
that is not very Japanese. In my mind I
know there is the curtain I found 4 or 5 years ago. It must have been belonged
to a restaurant. A Japanese restaurant operated by Chinese people, maybe? I
bought it, wanted to make something out of it.
It took me about a week to find the
curtain. In my mind I also knew I have
this little protection thing from one of the temples when I was there, and I
spent time to find it to go with the purse, to let it stay inside the purse and
perform its function --- that is to protect me, not that I can’t do it myself.
The purse only took a corner out of the
curtain... I will make something out of the face, later. I like the somewhat
fierce looking face of the woman.
After made this. I spent some time to
travel back alone. With the help of google, I could go to Japan and come back
in two hours just in time for picking up my children at school.
It surprised me I never did travel like
this to Japan before! And I did travel
this way to lots of places with them, my kids and etc,. to Paris and London and
lots and lots of places, lego land, even, tiny towns in Scotland where I have
no relation with. (you could go inside
the lego land even)
I was glad I went back to visit.
I saw the building I used to live. I went
around, led by the little yellow google person to see the little park that has
two cherry blossom trees and painted stools under them, where there were 3
swings and a water tap, a few homeless men used to wash and hang their white
shirts to dry there. I then went around to look at the window once belonged to
me where I stood in the balcony, doing stuff, or not doing anything.
I saw those little restaurants, when they
closed, just like the way they were 15 years ago, exactly the state as I saw
them when I went out to walk around, alone, in the late afternoons, when I was
15 years younger.
The streets have not change, not a bit. The
beverage vending machines were exactly like before. Now looking back I realize the symbol of my
youth and freedom probably very much related to those vending machines. They
were so reliable, quiet, sweet, never demanded anything from me except for two
hundred Yens. They had hot beverages, and cold ones. For the same milk tea, you
could choose, either hot, or cold. They always listened. Those Trust worthy
Now I can find the same beverages the same
brand here in Vancouver. But, they never taste the same. You know. The taste
can’t come back except in my dreams, I think.
Of course I love and adore Vancouver.
I probably liked Japan back then, not a
little bit, but very much.
My beautiful friend Hiral is Hindu. Saturday was her new year and we were invited to her house to spend the night.
I attended numerous of her chanting parties but I never dressed up and have always kept my low profile and ZEN-black-grey-navy-or-jean style.
I felt a bit guilty about that. so there came the flowered dress for Yi.
Fabric was brought as a present from Hiral's mother. a lovely soft cotton with yarn embroidered flowers and vines.
I said it is not really Indian style though, but my girl was really happy about it and said, it is Indian enough!
I am a Chinese and this is much Indian too me.
ever since I met Hiral 3 years ago, I grew intensely fond of India and Indian everything.
the food. oh.
look at it.
How can I ever sew a real Indian dress ever using my bare hands?
and, I also had a top from the same fabric and PANEL SKIRT. 22 panels======a whole day sewing for one single skirt. but you can't see this really in this photo but I will post it when it is P's turn, by then I should probably be making another Panel skirt, as it is really lovely! if you for some reason, maybe to practise compassion, want to experience a sweat-shop-garment-worker's day, do the panel skirt.
The picture below on the wall was my girl's art work when she was in day care. preschool, maybe. it's been there for a long time and I found that it suits, generally, all my sewing works, strange enough.
and she stopped wanting to be an artist so I don't have a replacement and don't want to replace it now.
I think I will keep showing this piece of art for a while.
I drafted the pattern using illustrator and I am hoping I can get it graded soon so I can just sew one after one as she is growing kind of fast to follow. I will use the same pattern forever and forever as the Ragen sleeve and hood seem so relax and practical. it's been in for how long? I can see every single person in Vancouver just wears the hoodie and wonders around everywhere.
or maybe I am mistaken as I do live just next to the high school and like to watch fresh boys and girls pass my window twice daily.
originally the hood was kind of hugging her sweet face.
later I had to change it due to the slight struggle she had to go through to pull it down her head.
it was not that tight.
but it was HUGE for her to mess up her hairstyle when she was very late in the morning and barely have time to brush her teeth. so HUGH that it beyond my understanding. I never cared about my hair except when I was ordered to get it cut short almost from the roots and the barber used to shave us around the neck when I was her age.
I will, have another pattern ready that not only has a hood hugs cheeks warmly, but also is wide enough to slide down gracefully along the head, smoothly, without brush any single hair awry. ha
My daughter is a huge humming bird and birds in general fun. She finished reading all the bird books in her school library and Metrotown branch of our public library which is close to our house. I had made many stuffed birds over the years for her, now I am writing this and I am thinking I may need to put my bird pattern collection on my agenda later.
also recently I was hooked by Regan sleeve. I can't get enough of them. Regan sleeve hoodies were made for me, my son, and her. then with the pattern ready it was just too easy to do more. On a specular moody day I sat there sergered two smaller Tees in a flash just to get my emotional waves under control. Tees ready and a much more calmed me also surfaced from my basement sewing room.
the black fabric was a piece from shortening a long dress, the sleeves are from some outcast, ready to be discarded, too-small-to-do-anything-except-for-toys stash.
She was very happy to have the bird but was grumpy that it was a bit short to cover her tummy as she is passionate about her monkey bar activities.
later she said I should lengthen it with pinkish and ruby color fabric as the throat is pinkish and ruby-ish.
She liked the 3-D wings as one of them can flap and I promised I will make another humming bird that has two wings both free to go.
all in all, I just can not help pleasing her all the time.