Thank you. I sell many copies of your delightful book in my bookstore here in New Zealand. Today, my husband and I formulated our first pigment from our grapevine. Looking forward to adding gum Arabic and water soon. Love all your Instagram posts, too. Thank you for colouring my world.
SCRUMPTIOUSLY,DEEELUSCIOUS ! Reminds me of Mana’s Mother, Florence Link, or “Nana” to me....a “Proper Wife,Mother,Merchant and Grandmother who had a home outside of Windsor,where Great Lake’s Freighters plied their trade,carrying, iron,steel,copper,prairie wheat,and other grains harvested from the Plaines,milled in huge mills, then meshed and ran through giant sleeves and towers, where boxcars gathered,while the freshly gritted flours spun down spouts and filled them for transit. From around 4 until maybe 14 I took delight in this completely Different sensuous array than in our homes and yards in Detroit.
Freshly hung laundry snapped and sparkled in the breeze, Nana’s apple sauce bowl ( a brownish yellow clay pottery,embroidered with small red apples painted around its rim) filled with warm mashed apples,cinnamon,just the Right amount of powdered clove and an almost blonde,very soft brown sugar with a perfect touch of butter,while Grandaddy’s garage housed his old Desoto car it’s indigo paint turning rainbowish on the hood and wheel skirts from driving the Midwestern,Windsor Road salt streets. There was his workbench and tool rack,all his tools being hand powered and operated from saws to hammers to drills and brace and bits.
It’s cardboard covered floor would take in and absorb the odd oil leak or small spill.
Some special days he would pull out his rods,net and tackle box and we would sit together out on the concrete breakwater. Granddaddy Link didn’t talk a lot but he did Laugh and liked to “ pull my leg “
The chop of the waves,passing freighters,speed,row boats,yachts and small craft passing by
were a delight !
Convinced that ‘ Canada’ tasted,smelled,looked and Felt Different than Detroit,Michigan “ I Know,with a certainty that I was Correct.
Many of those differences are dissipating,disappearing,or Gone now except in memories! And,that’s Fine. “Row,row,Row your boat,gently down the Stream....Merrily,Merrily,Merrily,Merrily. Life is But a Dream !
I was pleased to receive the first email essay from you, and it's about moving studio, which I am about to do - so nicely written - it's exactly what moving is about. Thank you.
Thank you. I sell many copies of your delightful book in my bookstore here in New Zealand. Today, my husband and I formulated our first pigment from our grapevine. Looking forward to adding gum Arabic and water soon. Love all your Instagram posts, too. Thank you for colouring my world.
O! Thank you for this.
SCRUMPTIOUSLY,DEEELUSCIOUS ! Reminds me of Mana’s Mother, Florence Link, or “Nana” to me....a “Proper Wife,Mother,Merchant and Grandmother who had a home outside of Windsor,where Great Lake’s Freighters plied their trade,carrying, iron,steel,copper,prairie wheat,and other grains harvested from the Plaines,milled in huge mills, then meshed and ran through giant sleeves and towers, where boxcars gathered,while the freshly gritted flours spun down spouts and filled them for transit. From around 4 until maybe 14 I took delight in this completely Different sensuous array than in our homes and yards in Detroit.
Freshly hung laundry snapped and sparkled in the breeze, Nana’s apple sauce bowl ( a brownish yellow clay pottery,embroidered with small red apples painted around its rim) filled with warm mashed apples,cinnamon,just the Right amount of powdered clove and an almost blonde,very soft brown sugar with a perfect touch of butter,while Grandaddy’s garage housed his old Desoto car it’s indigo paint turning rainbowish on the hood and wheel skirts from driving the Midwestern,Windsor Road salt streets. There was his workbench and tool rack,all his tools being hand powered and operated from saws to hammers to drills and brace and bits.
It’s cardboard covered floor would take in and absorb the odd oil leak or small spill.
Some special days he would pull out his rods,net and tackle box and we would sit together out on the concrete breakwater. Granddaddy Link didn’t talk a lot but he did Laugh and liked to “ pull my leg “
The chop of the waves,passing freighters,speed,row boats,yachts and small craft passing by
were a delight !
Convinced that ‘ Canada’ tasted,smelled,looked and Felt Different than Detroit,Michigan “ I Know,with a certainty that I was Correct.
Many of those differences are dissipating,disappearing,or Gone now except in memories! And,that’s Fine. “Row,row,Row your boat,gently down the Stream....Merrily,Merrily,Merrily,Merrily. Life is But a Dream !
I think I might know where I got my love of the little details from.
I was pleased to receive the first email essay from you, and it's about moving studio, which I am about to do - so nicely written - it's exactly what moving is about. Thank you.
I am glad it connected. Good with yours!