One of my very favourite things about making stuff for a living and sending it out into the world (as if that's not enough already) is when people send me photos of those things in their new homes.  Seeing a doll I've made in someone else's place with someone else's objects all around them is both odd and heartwarming.  Because I always imagine the dolls as having their own stories, it's endearing to see them in a place I've never imagined.  So here are some photos people have sent me over the past few months, all shown here with permission.

Going clockwise from the upper left hand corner, there is Tita, who now lives with Grace in Hawaii; you can probably barely make Tita out because she's quite tiny in the photo, but I had to show off that beautiful scenery because I'm so jealous of her view.  It sure beats her old view here in Montreal (i.e. snow, with more snow, with some snow on the side).  Carling did a lovely job of displaying her print with that very schmancy hat, and then there is Philomena who now gets to live in Australia with the lovely Monika Viktoria. (Insert more envy here.) Finally, there is little Luanne who went to live in Florida with dollhouse decorator extraordinaire, Kaerie Faerie.  Luanne is psyched to have new dollie friends made by Loopy Booby and Christine of Dubuhdu Designs.

My first ever 'in-situ' photo was of Bridget, all dressed up by her adoptive mother in a paper hat and a stole:

I recently finished a new piece - a wall hanging - and while I know I promised all Alice all the time, this odd girl kind of sprung up from left field.  I know I've said it many times before, but here is more proof: sometimes, certain things just demand they be made and there's no point in trying to reason with them.  She says her name is Clara, and I am but her humble conduit!

Here is my latest doll sketch: Miss Babette, she of my avatar with whom I cannot bear to part. (If my syntax seems pretentious, it's just because I'm an English teacher and I feel like a hypocrite breaking the rules I teach all day - I'm not a wanker, I swear!)  I gave her an outfit similar to my last dressed lady,  but I'm much  happier with this effort than the first. I think her slightly off posture (a quizzical tilting of the head) gives her enough of an odd look to save her from being merely cute or pretty.

Well, The Duchess was deeply satisfying on so many levels.  I LOVED it, and if you're a sucker for costume dramas, you won't be disappointed; the clothes are breathtaking. But even if you're not crazy about period films, this movie is so well-acted, well-written, beautifully directed and it has substance.  It's the story of Georgiana Spencer, the Duchess of Devonshire (who was an ancestor of Lady Diana's) and her unhappy marriage to the Duke (played by yummy Ralph Fiennes).  Kiera Knightly has some serious acting chops and while it's a fairly bleak tale, it's gripping all the way through. 

It was also a perfect example of my ambivalence toward period clothing.  I love pouring over costume books and looking at pictures of clothing anywhere from the Elizabethan to the Victorian eras.  I think those old, elaborate clothes were beautiful as garments and fascinating as structures, and yet they must have been so oppressive and confining  and uncomfortable.  I sometimes get lost in romantic ideas about living in a time when things were so detailed and handcrafted, but I know that as a woman, my choices would have been severely limited. So those clothes both attract and repel at the same time, and it has occurred to me recently that maybe this is why people always comment on how sad my dolls look. I try to mimic period clothes because I have a genuine aesthetic appreciation for them, and yet I imagine that many women who actually had to wear them must have been quite sad.  But back to the Duchess, here she is, looking fab.

Lately I’ve been working on some smallish prints inspired by the work of Tom Phillips, who created the art-piece/ novel, A Humument, a page of which is pictured below:

Phillips created beautiful art work as well as a whole new story by painting/ drawing over the pages of a Victorian novel.  He leaves certain words visible, and his novel has an actual narrative with recurring characters – lovely, and so original.

I decided to do something similar in spirit, but with a different aesthetic.  I’m  not quite ambitious enough to attempt a whole novel (plus it’s already been done!)  so mine are more like short poems.  It reminds me fridge poetry in that you have a limited choice of words, but can the results can be surprisingly lyrical.  Here is my attempt, done with ink and watercolour on vellum over a page from Alice in Wonderland.  The drawing itself was inspired by a Julia Margaret Cameron photograph.

It is entitled, So Very Dear to Her, and prints are available in my shop.

This weekend we went for the most beautiful walk in a very quiet, sweet little neighbourhood in the south of Montreal called Point St. Charles.  It’s very close to where we live, just south of the Lachine Canal, but somehow, in our nearly two years here, we’d never been before.  There’s not much in the way of stores, restaurants, etc., but it’s very green and residential and so tranquil it almost felt like being in a small town rather than a city of millions, and somewhat  from another era as well.  There were many lovely little houses very typical of the Montreal style of architecture, and I fell in love with the area.  I thought I’d include a few pictures so you could see how pretty it was...

This place reminded me of something out of a fairy tale - beautiful but a bit decrepit and tumble-down,
as though it's been forgotten for years.  Here's a picture of the doors (I had to fight the urge to go in!):