A well-overdue two tone dance party

 Back in January 2017 I received an order of Dollhouse gig posters I bought from Starshaped Press and got as far as this in plotting a scene inspired by my favourite one:

Today at lunchtime (as I realised that perhaps this year's challenge might be a little easier as I'm still working from home, so can do some prep work then) I remembered the poster set, and that this one fitted the criteria for the day quite nicely.

So once I logged off for the day I pulled the poster out of stash and spent some time looking for the rest of the items in the original picture (pork pie hat and red scooter still AWOL), and searching google images for pictures of things I could make to add to the scene, and stash for stuff I already had that would work (also currently AWOL: one Union Jack cushion).

Originally I was thinking that the scene might be an actual dance party in someone's lounge, but in these physically-distanced times, decided it might be more prudent to make it a bedroom scene of a current-day mod who is holding a two tone dance party for one.

Here's where I'm at:

And now I need to make some things before dinner time rolls around.

Daily Dolls' House December 2020: One

 And so it starts, for the seventh year.

And I've found myself, in the lead up to this year's challenge, wondering if now is the time to admit defeat.

Not just on the Daily Dolls' House December challenge, but on miniatures in general.

You see, one of the main reasons I've been doing Daily Dolls' House December through the years is to try and carve some space into each year reserved for me to play, and hopefully find my miniature mojo.

And each year it seems to become more just another thing on the list that I need to get done.

Since I moved into my first home almost two years ago, and my smaller studio, with crapper light, I've found myself in the situation where I occasionally buy something in the hope that it sparks the return of my former creativity, only to find it just seems to add to the pile of unused possibilities, and things that I need to do, or have tried to do and failed.

I was going to show examples of how overwhelmed I felt at the beginning of the challenge each year, but surprised myself by realising (at least blog-wise) that wasn't the case.

Which shook today's Eeyore-like outlook up a bit and made me a little excited about what I might be creating in the next 31 days.

Am I completely insane to add the extra challenge of including the number of the day into each scene I blog during this year's challenge?

(Today's number one courtesy of Margell Public School: one of the buildings I sacrificed in the shift to a smaller flat...)

Life in uncertain times

 And, finally, the weekend.

I gave up on the studio as too cold and decamped to the dining room table, where I finished the last few things I needed for my chair scene, then, chasing the light, to the kitchen to finally put it together.

I call it Life in uncertain times.

(And I'm hoping that that 'P 30m' sign doesn't mean 30 months: although my mortgage would be rather pleased if that were the case!)

Careful placement of the chair, and the angle and cropping of the photographs means you don't get to see this:

(I did have a back-up plan which involved ever-so-casually draping a throw or shawl on the side of the chair, but that turned out to be unnecessary).

One good thing about setting up a scene on the kitchen bench is that you're forced to put it away (or at least somewhere else) before you can start preparing dinner...

Mid-week minis

 I finished the chair. And it sat there for almost a week waiting for me to have the time and headspace to finish the scene I was planning for it, and for some light to photograph it (it's been a grey, rainy and freezing week, culminating with snow early this afternoon).

That doesn't mean I've not been mini-ing. After I logged off from work each afternoon this week I pulled out a kit from stash (in a fairly random way: but focusing on quick and easy wins), and worked on it.

Life in lockdown

 And so, after almost ten days of side-eyeing my half-completed and almost abandoned chair kit, yesterday morning I came up with a plan that might just work, and, more importantly a possible solution to cover its problem area.

And reminded myself that done was better than perfect, the whole point of the exercise was luring myself back into the studio, and if it all turned to shit I would quite happily bin the whole damned thing.While waiting for the first lot of glue for the day to dry I played my favorite game of 'Who lives here?', reacquainting myself with the stash to see where the potential scene was heading...And it seems it's heading into life in lockdown. The yellow table is back, and paired with one of the stools I picked up at the 2018 Sydney show, and a radiator I bought for the 2015 HBS Creatin' contest (which isn't moving forward anytime soon... *sigh*).

There's working from home so I needed a monitor, laptop and keyboard (and a mouse: as yet unmade).

Some topic-appropriate artwork, collected from various places across the years (including a magnet I bought at the Wellington Underground Market in 2014 (now closed), and in a city that I'm not sure when I'll next be able to visit, and which I thought I'd be using in quite a different scene (as yet unbuilt...), a wee something from a gift from a friend back in 2015 (are you sensing a theme here?), and a card of another friend's father's artwork).

I added some appropriately-coloured and themed swaps and gifts, and, finally the necessary cleaning supplies. Except I realised that the hand wash didn't really look like sanitiser, and so spent a couple of hours on the sofa that evening looking at tutorials for making miniature hand sanitiser pump packs without coming up with anything that was the right scale, and included items I already had.

So I went to bed.

And an old friend returned. Just after 3am, a thought bubbled into the dream I was having (am I the only one whose dreams are currently more interesting that their real lives?). 

My subconscious reminded me of a piece of canvas I'd completely forgotten that I had: with colours that might work as a mural in the scene: and causing the viewer some more general 'unease' with it.

Even better, it came up with the solution to my hand sanitiser problem: suggesting that a bottle from the perfume bottle set I'd bought as part of the At home with Hello Kitty range could possibly, with some white nail polish and a couple of labels, turn into a bottle of hand sanitiser.

And blow me down: it was right. Not only in remembering the tiny bottles, but also, helpfully, reminding me I had a macro lens for my phone, and pointing me to where it was!

So my Sunday involved rooting out forgotten treasures, making some ever-so-important-in-these-times hand sanitiser, and, finally, finishing the chair that started the whole thing...

(Which doesn't look so bad...)

Plus (unexpectedly and quite pleasingly) starting to move some things around from where they landed when I first shifted in, to places that make more sense for how I'm using them!

The kit with no instructions

I'm not actually sure when I was given this slipper chair kit by Adelaide Cann of Adelaide's Miniatures, but I suspect it was probably over five years ago at the surprise birthday workshop she threw at Div's.

It's been sitting in stash ever since, and one of its biggest issues is a lack of instructions. (If I'd been given any verbal guidance at the time I've long forgotten it).

But in my constant effort to sort out the studio I'd stumble across this op-shopped treasure, which suggested it might work rather well with the parking sign I bought on my last trip to New Zealand (Oh, in those halcyon days just before travel restrictions came into place!)

And I decided that it was worth giving it a crack as the potential negatives were so low (financially at least) and the positives so high (a new scene!)

I thought I started well, although commented on Instagram that I was at this stage where I don't know if this is going to be brilliant or a complete disaster...

Turns out, after further gluing today, that I'm lurching dangerously close to a disaster.

So I've abandoned things for now to let my poor (overloaded by work) brain time to come up with a brilliant solution that works within the small amount of fabric I have.

In the meantime, I'd decided that this piece required a scene. Which required a keyboard.

Which I only have one of, in the wrong colours (and in the wrong operating system).

A quick text to my local miniature shop indicated that such a thing would be some weeks away, so I went with option B: printing one myself.

It may not be perfect but I think it'll work for now...

Attempting it again in August...

After the spectacular (in my mind at least: I suspect no one else much noticed) failure of my May miniature challenge, at the end of last month I finally thought I should try another approach.

It's a nice mix of supportive and caring ('I know it's been a draining couple of years and you keep saying you don't have the brain space for minis, or find your 'new' studio easy to navigate, but perhaps by making some time to make something you'll feel better and finally start settling in?'), and my usual hard line and logical ('And if you don't actually start to use some of this stuff, perhaps we need to consider getting rid of it!')

And so on the weekend I figuratively locked myself in the studio: firstly unearthing my cutting mat and the chair in front of it,

and shoving stuff into the cupboard ('My what a lot of treasures you've amassed!'),  then dismantling and putting away most of The Sailor's Daughter and dusting off the remaining empty space.

I even worked out how to pull apart the IKEA mini shipping container that was sitting next to it, making more room for future possibilities (which may just include its return, if I decide to attack it with my tin snips rather than look into laser-cutting options...)

After all that excitement, past failures, and realising that I'm once again very rusty, I decided to approach things very gently.

There's making scenes. And there's making miniatures. Perhaps I should focus on the latter this time, rather than the former. Yes, I'll end up with just the same amount (if not more) stuff in the studio, but at least it's completed and not grumbling at me from the cupboard, and just perhaps starting with the latter will kick the former into action.

And so, on Saturday I started with this,

figuring that since I didn't remember where the kit came from I wouldn't care to much if it came to nothing,

By the end of the day I had a handful of completed projects

(none of which, you may note, is the book kit that started the whole approach).

Since my focus was on kits made of paper, I also made these: from a kit I received in the goody bag from the 2015 AMEA convention.

(Giggling as I spent way too much time making sure that the card corners weren't square...)

At that stage I hoped quietly that I'd managed to find and recapture my mini mojo....

Just parking this here

I've been feeling a bit envious reading all the social media posts from people who have been home over the past month or so, with lots of free time to deep dive into projects.

Then I feel conflicted as I remind myself how fortunate I am to have a job. And a job I can do from home. But which often leaves me brain dead by the time I clock off for the day.

So I decided that I should attempt a challenge: but with all the other stresses caused by the current situation, make it as low-pressure as I possible.

It's called 'May be miniatures'. It's May. I'll try to do something miniature-related each day, but I'm sure as hell not going to beat myself up if I don't, or the lighting's crap because it's dark by the time I finish whatever it is that I plan to create that day so my photos aren't great.

Yep, this is going to be the loosest challenge I can come up with. Perhaps you'll hear from me tomorrow. Or perhaps I'll decide what I need to do is stay burrowed under the doona (duvet), keep warm, and read. We'll see...

Minis in a mad world

It was only two weeks ago, but I feel very fortunate to have made it to New Zealand (and back!) on a trip to visit The Parental Units and New Zealand friends.

I hadn't intended to come back with minis, as I was aware of the fact that I've not been doing much recently, but things just... happened.

Here's my haul: a mix of gifts, op-shopped finds and discount-store discoveries.

First the gifts, and one particularly precious one. Friend Miggs gave me the oak side table she made back in the 90s,

with its beautifully inlaid top,

along with her collection of vintage miniature pottery from Peru,

and a set of miniature pallets she found in her local tip shop.

I've always admired the table, and will treasure it. Hopefully sometime soon I'll make a particularly special scene to display it in.

From one of my favourite Wellington shops, I picked up this weathered bird cage, and a lighthouse and letter A charm.

From Uncle Bills [sic], some puffy stickers,

and from various op shops around the region, what can only be described as 'some weirdly random bits' that spoke to me.

I managed to slip back into the country six hours before self-isolation became mandatory for anyone entering, which means instead of being forced to loll round at home for 14 days reading books and playing with miniatures, I've been working there instead.Just to be on the safe side. I felt better about the whole thing when my role was declared 'critical', as I'm working on national COVID-19 related stuff (she says enigmatically).

Fourteen: reasons to not have been blogging

Oh good grief, it's blogiversary time again. How did that happen so fast?

I had all the good intentions in the world to continue with the blogging habit I'd restarted with Daily Dolls' House December 2019, but it would seem that life had a different plan.

Here's what's happened since I last blogged...

1. Workwise, we've been mogged (and no this does not mean we've all been given cats, nice as that would be) which has meant much uncertainty as two government departments become one.

2. It's been crazy hot While my new* place usually copes much better than my old one, when it's over 40 °C (104 °F) , even the 'cool' breeze I get is not really cool at all.

3.There's the bushfires in the ACT and the surrounding regions, which haven't (yet) affected me directly, but the smoke and uncertainty most certainly have.

4. I bought a new bookshelf for my studio, second hand.

5. And a desk (new, but deeply discounted).Both of which meant moving stuff out of the studio, and them back in again...

6. Then there was The Hail Storm.

7. Which killed Miss Daisy.

8. Who, because of the massive number of claims, sat in the car park opposite work for quite some time. Without a back window. And perfectly positioned for me to check her wellbeing several times a day from our work kitchen.

9. In the meantime, I bought a scooter.

10. My first in 14 years.

11. So I needed to relearn how to ride.

12. Several months ago I'd noticed my shower was leaking through the wall, so I'd booked my fix-it man in to sort it out, and his first available spot was February.

13. This means that, over the past week, on top of everything else,my ensuite has been pulled apart.

14. And is being slowly put back together.

 So there you are:14 reasons I've not been blogging.

*And I'l leave you with a question:
At what stage does my now 18-month old flat become not 'new'? Is it like relationships, where it apparently takes one year to get over every five?

Weekend green thumb

This was the view of my poor long-ignored ivy kit yesterday evening:

late this morning: 

 and, finally, this evening:

I still need to arrange the stems a bit but am happy with the general end result, and even more happy with the fact it's finally done with counting and gluing and can move on to something else!

It's good to see you again my friend...*

I'd arranged to meet my former colleague/ boss (now friend) this afternoon to visit the Reg Mombassa exhibition at Ambush Gallery in Kambri at ANU (I've had a soft spot for Reg's work, not just because he's a fellow kiwi living in Australia, but because he has a dolls' house in his studio...)

We got a bit lost as neither of us had been there before, and ended up finding a lift that took us straight into the gallery from the plaza.

So it wasn't until we left, via the front entrance, that I spotted something familiar in the foyer below. Raced down the stairs and stopped dead in front of Bette Noir, delighted to see she was being used once again as a publicly-accessible miniature gallery.

I felt a bit teary, to be honest, and wondered how long she'd been just up the road from work without me knowing...

And to make the whole thing even weirder, in the blog post from when she arrived into my life, the contract that I'd just started, that was sucking up my energy (and that morphed into my current role), was the one where I first met the colleague/ boss/ friend I was standing in front of her with.

(*It's been a long long time.)

Well that was tedious

And not quite 250, but I figure close enough: and having spent all afternoon separating teeny tiny ivy leaves from each other I'm not inclined to go back through each one to find where the other five are hiding.

I need to rest my eyes for a while, and then I'll start putting it all together... (And interestingly enough, so far it's more soporific than scary...)