Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now

Stuff gets done here

recent posts

  • What the kingfisher taught me

    A rustic wood frame for this hand-embroidery project means it really and truly is completed.

    I’m thinking about architect David Rockwell who once said: Every project is an opportunity to learn, to figure out problems and challenges, to invent and reinvent.

    Framing projects as an opportunity to learn frees up creativity. Yes, I am wanting an outcome, but I am also experiencing creative growth.

    Here’s what I learned on this kingfisher project:

    I’d rather do long and short stitches than stem stitches for tree trunks or branches.

    Having the frame before beginning helps me think more effectively about how big the project should be.

    Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. (In a perfect world, the background fabric would be different, either a sharp white or a greenish blue instead of this very pale yellow-green. But I don’t think I’ll start over with new fabric.

    I’ve blogged about this piece a few times, here and here

    It feels helpful to write down these things so when I start the next bird project — an osprey — I can put what the kingfisher taught me to good use.

  • Begin with the end in mind

    Belted king fisher hand embroidery designed by Susan Palmer
    Hand embroidered belted kingfisher

    I finished the thread work on this hand embroidery project, a belted kingfisher I designed thanks to inspiration from one of our local wildlife photographers Norman Goo. But finishing the actual sewing is only part of the task. Now the art needs to be mounted and framed.

    And that’s where I failed. It’s where I always fail with hand embroidery. I’m so excited about the sewing, I don’t think about where the project will end up.

    Before I began, I should have purchased the frame–taken the fabric and the threads to a shop and found the size and color of the thing it would eventually be at home in. Having done that, I would size the project correctly. But no. So now I’m down to the art of the possible. What can I find that’s the right size and the right style…

    I know better. Really. But then in the intoxication of the threads, and the wanting to sink into the flow, I get ahead of myself. Next time, will I do better? We shall see.

  • Sounds weird, feels good

    Dusk on Steens Mountain — Susan Palmer

    The first time I heard a Nia dance trainer say, “Smell the moment,” my internal rant persona engaged: You can’t smell a moment. You can smell a flower or a turd. A moment? Ridiculous.

    But patience (not my top virtue nor even a middle virtue, more a fleeting one) sometimes brings me around. Now I understand that it’s just another way of inviting someone to take a deep breath in. So why not just say: “Take a deep breath in.”

    I’m just guessing here, but having followed the instruction (with grumbling of course, grumbling being my resting state), there’s some kind of extra thing that happens. Adding a sensory directive puts me both in the moment and in my body. This is good for someone who spends way to much time stuck in my head.

    Breathing deeply is healthy. Deep breaths are more efficient: they allow your body to fully exchange incoming oxygen with outgoing carbon dioxide. They have also been shown to slow the heartbeat, lower or stabilize blood pressure and lower stress., says Dr. James Hoyt, a pulmonologist at UCHealth Pulmonology Clinic.

    So, I offer this picture from a recent camping trip in southern Oregon. Take a deep breath in and imagine that ineffable aroma of downed leaves in mid-autumn. I know sitting here in my studio, I’m doing just that, settled and ready for a writing day.