Saturday, January 27, 2018

The Good Things Together ladies who make Mother Bears, tagged me today because I didn’t post any bears in the first January showcase. I have a full box of bears to send and two or three bears in various stages of completion. I should get on with those.

But I just had a brilliant idea—

because, you know, I am struggling in the doll world. I had to turn down friend requests from doll ladies, because they aren’t really my people.

And like on one doll list someone is making these really fabulous dolls. But…ballerinas for girls and ninjas for boys. What about the girls who want to be ninjas? what about the boys who want a ballerina/bailerinx?

And then I realized I can name all of my 2018 bears after the murdered trans & qoc folks! Like a testament, a bearing witness, in another setting.

I already got one post banned for being political: saying I didn’t buy at hobby lobby for political reasons and then someone posted back that it’s not that they don’t allow employees birth control but only don’t allow abortion pill. (Medication abortion, “Abortion pill” is the popular name for using two different medicines to end a pregnancy: mifepristone and misoprostol, formerly known as RU-486.

The mods shut that discussion down. In fact, I had gone back to delete my post and they had already deleted it.

Oh, I remember seeing stores that sold dolls of color. I can’t remember if it was near Joanie’s place in the excelsior, or in Denver. It appears (in both of these places) in my dreams. I never got to go in because it was always closed.

So, as a a little girl, I was absolutely obsessed with dolls. It was a joke that if my dad gave me a dollar at the swap meet, I’d spend it on a doll immediately. And at one time, I was sewing clothes for barbies (mostly these wrap-around jumper numbers that were super short and showed a lot of side-boob), until I sewed through my thumbnail, which put me of machine sewing for a long, long time.

And one time in the seventies “corn husk dolls” became a popular kitchen decoration. And that’s when I was making them out of kleenex and cotton balls and thread, and Aunt Alice told my mom I needed to learn to knit so I could do something with all of that.

Monday, January 15, 2018

My goal this year is to complete a person doll.

2017 was the year of learning Amigurumi and learning to make bears. I made a Peppa Pig lovey. I learned I can follow a pattern and also make it my own.

I started but did not finish several “people” dolls. I have a lot of books on knitting & crocheting dolls (AmigurMe, Knit your own Boyfriend, The Complete Idiots Guide to Amigurumi, Edward’s Crochet Doll Emporium, Arne & Carlos’s Knitted Dolls)

So this year is about pushing through. I feel driven to make these dolls but also afraid.

I’m kind of funny, choosing as my goal something I can actually accomplish this week!

——later————

Oka so I’ve also posted my mermaid doll fantasies and Kale asked me how much to buy? So sweet (and inspiring) but I explained I’m mot there yet.

I’m showing a decided disinclination to do anything at all today!

But I think the solution is to take the dogs to Alameda, walk them there, and then go get my sudafed and kombucha & yogurt. Tht’as all I need to get by.

No structure + no luz = very sad catriona

much later: Crystal asked if anyone broke off contact with blood family:

I did, about 25 years ago (wow, time flies). It was after I came out and my sister wrote me a letter saying she felt I was being selfish and disrespectful of the family and that I was the cause of all of the family problems. I shared the letter with my mom, and she didn't respond the way I wanted her to, so I got really upset and cut off all communication with them. This went on for several months, maybe as many as six months. Then my mom told me she was coming to see me (an eight hour drive) and wanted to talk with me. She made the journey because she loved me and cared about me and wanted me to know that my family was the place for me: they would stretch and grow to accommodate who I am and might be.

I know not everyone' stories have a happy ending and I'm not saying everything was always perfect afterward, or that my sister and I are all Elsa and Anna now. At the time, I felt like it was important for me. But I also felt like the white queer community I was in didn't really value family connections. I don't know if this makes sense.

This isn't the same as the just toxic members of my family, some of whom I just avoided forever and some I had to work around.

(I decided that posting this was kind of self-serving, since she’s got toxic people to deal with and has already moved on from her question.

 

Sunday, January 14, 2018

Okay, I started this “Naked Ned” doll, supposedly as an experiment, but really and truly because he’s going to be my alfonsito doll. I think it’s important to make an Alfonsito doll because I can forgive the little boy. I can let go of resentments, once I take a look at his life. The grown man is a lot harder.

This really also fits with how my dad cherished the “school days” foto of himself. He started telling the story about when he visited the seminary, and he saw how everyone was clean and warm and had a bed and food. And they asked if anyone wanted to stay there. And inside, his hand went up right away. But then he realized that he would have to give up his mama and his brothers and he just couldn’t do it.

Sometimes he tells this story like the angel and the devil are on his shoulders telling him what to do. The Angel says raise your hand! Be a priest! Be holy and comfortable and good. And the Devil says no, you don’t want to give up your family. You can’t live by their rules.

And so sometimes he looks at that little boy and says he’s “almost a saint” (a narrative I particularly liked to disrupt, saying, he doesn’t look saintly: he looks like a little boy who will prob’ly get into trouble soon) and that if he had made different choices then, none of us would even exist. If the angel had won out.

Anyway, right now he has feet and chonies and a torso but no arms or head yet.

I hope I finish him soon, instead of having his headless torso standing there looking at me…

I’ve been obsessively reading project notes for all the nelly/ned dolls. It’s interesting to me that other people feel afraid too, when they’re making dolls. I mean, they put it down to advanced craft anxiety—do I know enough/have enough practice to do this.

They don’t necessarily have my witch/poupee anxiety.

But I think it’s important, hear? I think I need to confront this fear and that making Alfonsito is part of my healing.

I can see already that I didn’t make him skinny enough. He doesn’t look like the New Mexico farm boy, whose bones stand out too much. He looks plump and happy. Good to remember for future projects.

So maybe I’ll work on him today and maybe I’ll work on the Xiomara doll and she might turn into Altagracia or Grace, who knows. minime. I mean, not really: I never looked that clean and stylish in my life! But more like Gracie and Shirley and Eleanor, in contrast to Lucia and

Alice. More like the sly girl in the jumper but instead in dungarees. That’s why I think Shirley, you know?

Making this naked ned doll with chonies seemed pretty important to me, though I couldn’t figure out why. The directions say the underwear is only necessary for the girl doll (presumably because she will be wearing a dress and so her undies might show, while he’ll be wearing trousers so his never will).

But it fits with my dollmaking magic: the doll is not a boy doll or a girl doll to start off with. You can give the doll short hair and call them a boy. Or you can give that short haired doll some bright colored clothing and call them a girl. Or they can be a trans mermaid.

And really, for a while I was stuck on the transmermaid, because they have to have the fish tail, so you’re deciding from the first stitch what they’re going to be, but then I’ve discovered the “removable mermaid tail” pattern, which is just a brilliant idea. So Alfonsito can be a merman if I want.

Oh, another reason I’ve really been thinking about making an Alfonsito doll: originally I was just thinking of making im like in the photo: big hair, hand-me down shirt and jeans (belted tight) and maybe boots. But the last night I was thinking about the story Maria Littlebear. And how Elisa tries to remember ever having a toy, and she can’t. She remembers mothering her baby siblings, but never having a baby doll. And that’s like Alfonsito. So making Alfonsito a pirate, for example, that’s something that he could never have done and so also important for him to do. He did the schoolboy. He did (at least in his mind) the acolyte, the altar boy, the almost-saint. He did the shoe-shine boy, the travieso, the hustler, the con-man. Cowboy wasn’t play: it was staying with the cows all day.

Quote from Jo Carrillo’s short story “Maria Littlebear:

That was the year that Elisa Antonia Alvarado was born in Mountain View, New Mexico. She was the oldest out of twelve and the only girl too. Can you imagine that? Well, all she could remember was feeding and changing, yelling and crying, you know, all those things that mothers usually do alone. She would try to remember dolls or some other kinds of toys too, so it wasn’t like she was faking it. Right up until a few years ago, she’d sit right there in that chair that you’re in now, she’d wrinkle her face up—sort of like a baby will do one second before she starts wailing—and you could tell that she was really trying hard. Still, no toys. The fact was that she had too many responsibilities to be wasting time like a normal kid would do if its papa was rich. (Jo Carrillo, “Maria Littebear,” 1981)

But he didn’t get to do the pirate, the world explorer, the indigenous boy secure in his own culture, the lion tamer, raggedy andy. All the things that Chip gets to be, Alfonsito never got to be. So yeah, there was some resentment there. With Steven and Chip, he had enough of a say that he was able to influence them, make them want to be cowboys or to learn that a grandpa won’t carry you but a grandpa will hold your hand and walk alongside you. But they faced limitations themselves about what they could and couldn’t be.

Expressed some opinions: Stevie wouldnt’ wear the crop top until his mom showed him that Winnie the Pooh is wearing a cropped top, and so he called it his Pooh shirt and happily wore it.

Cisco would not put on his suit for Christine’s wedding—categorically refused, until Grandpo put his matching suit on and then Cisco was okay with matching Grandpo.

But Chip ran—ran as far as you could see. Had no fear, even though me and Christine would be having a heart attack that he wouldn’t stop when he reached the curb and would be hit by a car. He was never afraid. he was fearless. And now he’s headed to the Peace Corps, to Columbia this summer!

I'm really glad I made him with chonies on.

For some reason I decided to go with gray instead of white. White is too new and crisp and clean. And also, in the little house Farmer Boy book, there’s a whole thing about his mom weaving all the fabric for all their clothes. and I think that the underwear is undyed or maybe even gray. The gray she made by mixing the natural wool with the natural black wool. But that might have only been for school uniforms.

I watched Star Wars: Rogue One, Moana last night (loved it) and am watching Frozen today.

Fathers in the fairy tales always put their hope for their children first.

Fathers in real life never do. They don’t have grand logic behind what they do and they don’t notice who they hurt.

Fantasy gave me the benign father figures: sober, safe, sexless, absolutely safe. Wise and sensible both.

As I’ve mentioned before, an important metaphor comes to me from Octavia Butler’s Patternmaster series. We are “Doro’s People.” The chosen ones. Bred to be tasty prey for the soul-killing vampire who has made himself our God. We are drawn to our own people, even while living with them is unhealthy for us. We can’t raise our own children. We don’t know how to parent. We don’t know how to do anything but react to the chaos our brains absorb from the noise around us.

In the world of Doro’s people, fathers are never trustworthy. Not girl children. Not to anyone.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Notes for “Naked Ned” doll

Yarn: warm brown

I’m not sure if I have the right color identified. It’s lighter and warmer than caffe latte, that’s all I can say for sure.

I’m just finishing the first foot. I just love how it looks like a hoof. I’m weird that way. I had the same reaction with june’s boy/girl doll.

I’m surprised that there aren’t more forum posts about this pattern--compared to the weebee baby doll--but maybe because it’s newer? Maybe there will be more posts about it after this MCAL.

Oh, so after finishing the foot (round 9) it looks to me like my stitch marker moves over one. that is, I was marking the last stitch of the round and now it looks like I’m marking the first stitch of the round. how did that happen?

She says to make the dolls bald for the MCAL, but I’m not clear if we have to (i.e. if there’s a hat or hair treatment as part of the MCAL patterns.

—————

I made a second foot this morning, cut the soles for the feet, then compared the two feet. Then undid the first foot a couple of times.

Now I’m ready to go forward, come what may. I think I might stuff the feet with the weighted stuffing (have to go see if I have a stocking I can sacrifice to the amigurumi gods!

Okay, well making the little nylon bag for the weighted stuffing was a messier undertaking than I anticipated. I’m now up the legs and worked the first color change for the underwear. (decided to go with gray, for a nice boy shorts look).

FYI: after studying both the first weebee tutorial and the video on color changes, it looks like the slip stitch round does NOT count as a round, and the subsequent round is supposed to be in blo.

I didn’t do blo for the round of sc, with the result that the gray area is noticeably thicker than the fleshtone round, but that’s okay, because underwear are thicker than just your clothes, right? yeah, that’s what I thought.

—————

Okay I’ve just joined the legs together. Round 23 The stitch count (7 stitches leg one, join to first stitch of second leg, 13 stitches to leg two, finish with 7 stitches on leg one) didn’t quite work out because my stitch counter for both legs was on the center back. So I did 12 stitches before joining the second leg, worked all 14 of second leg stitches and then only two stitches left to leg one.

——

OMG, I just looked at the other clothing patterns available for Nelly/Ned. As if the pirate costumes aren’t fabulous enough, there’s mermaid tails! And if I get the graduation outfit, that has a white t-shirt, so with Ned + tshirt+ mermaid tail I have a Sirenito! OMG I am so coveting the patterns right now! Now I wish I hadn’t spent my money on the Valentines MCAL so I could buy the others instead. The Pirates were last summers MCAL and they are so fabulous! Someone has Purple Hair on their Pirate! OMG PRINCE!!!!

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Yesterday’s saints of the Day:

Santiago, San Bartolomeo, San Cristobal

Did you know San Bartolomeo is the patron saint of panic attacks? That’s telling me something. Not something I knew, that’s for sure. He was flayed alive, so there’s a lot of Xipe Totec in there too.

Cristobal, Christ bearer. Traveller. Journey. Apocyrphal. Defrocked? Desanctified? dropped from the Roman Catholic Calendar of Saints in response to Vatican II “as mandated by the motu proprio, Mysterii Paschalis.

Santiago. de Compostela. Matamoros. Pilgrimages, Reconquista, Racial purity. So the Spanish version of this saint is not one to identify with. (Big suprise: Conquistador is unlikeable)

The Secret Book of James apparently put a lot of emphasis on suffering as inevitable.

Also, if John is the beloved disciple, than Santiago is the Santo Cuñado.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

So last night I had the idea that I should use “Today’s card”to get my writing started. Yesterday’s card was The Mountain.

The mountain casts its shadow over the valley. In the winter, darkness can fall before four pm. The shadow is psychic as well as physical. The mountain is grounding: you always know where you are. The mountain, like the land, is testament to the generations of people who have lived here, their stories forgotten or erased. The mountain is more than a benign figure: it is steeped in the history, the blood, the tears.

In the cartomancy system, the mountain represents obstacles, barriers, blockages, and also pride, hubris, wanting to be the mountain that everyone else looks at. It’s like the quest novels where the entire team looks up at the mountain and knows that they need to cross it to move forward, and that it will be hard and full of hidden difficulties.

Which is funny that I give that example, because there was an rocky outcropping there and I tried to plot out my fantasy novel there; all the different kingdom a significant distance apart. that assembling the quest means going to each of the kingdoms for representatives. I drew them on the red rock using a green marker.

That rocky outcropping was my imaginary world, my escape from the closed up space and emotional confusion of home. Yet it was also the place where I imagined jumping to my death, to get away from everything. To escape this world.