Hippies

I started using my new nibs and ink last night- I made a rose. Now, I don't particularly like roses- like at all- but it was a picture I had that a very dear customer gave to me. So, I drew from it. I'll post a picture of it later- mind you, there's lots of scribbling on the paper itself because I was experimenting- I haven't done pen-and-ink art in at least eight years. But it sure did feel good.
This morning/afternoon before work, I spent time restringing all the bracelets that I broke about five years ago. I got the carnelian, citrine, and adventurine strands done before I had to leave. They're so pretty- I love rocks. I used to have a H U G E piece of rose quartz (about the only kind of roses I like), but it was thrown out of my car when I had the accident last summer.
Currently, I'm resisting the urge to go buy dye for tie-dye. I've got new white sheets- a perfect canvas. Plus, boyfriend has white undershirts that could very well become tie-dyed undershirts.

Tie-dye and I have this relationship, you see. It began in the first grade when my mother was inspired by Lynette Jennings (if you remember her, she was on the Discovery Channel and did home crafts) to start tie-dying things again (she'd lived through the 60s....she was an adept at tie-dye by like, 1964). It became a favorite pasttime for us. Then, as I grew older, I kinda grew out of it for a while- meaning that I still loved it, but was afraid of what people would say about it (at the time, I lived in north Alabama, where anything unusual is frowned heavily upon). Then, as a teenager and adult-child, I rediscovered it as a way to meet everyone at the music festivals I would go to in the summertime. I would set up my tent, outdoor kitchen/living area, and then spread out this huge sheet with lots of buckets of dye. I'd hang a clothesline out between two trees, and then make a big batch of ash water in a Rubbermaid container, and wait for people to walk by. They almost inevitably took interest in it, and would ask "hey, man, can I tie-dye my (insert fabric item) with you?" To which I would respond "sure, bring it on over." We'd talk, introduce ourselves, do the get-to-know-each other thing- and by the end of the festival, everyone in the camp ground knew me.

Now, though, I'm not at a festival, and it would still be a means to have people "look" at me, but I really don't care. I just want to go through the ritual of tie-dye. Doesn't it sound like fun? I could even throw a dye festival of my own at my house. I love doing stuff like that.
Tomorrow, in fact, I'm having a banana bread baking shin dig. It'll be fun, and hopefully nothing will catch on fire this time. I'll post pictures of that too.