Archive for February, 2015

February 16, 2015

it’s the thought that counts

I got up off my lazy butt and dust-busted the heck out of my computer and said “YES. Today is the day. Today is the day that I will blog. And start storytelling about my last lovely vacation. YES.”

And then I went to upload some pics from Day 1. And well. They weren’t there. And well. Now I can’t breathe. Now I need to put my safari hat on and go on a manhunt and hope that I simply edited a verrrrrrry small number of pics, and the rest are just waiting in Lightroom, concerned that I may have forgotten about them.

SO. I tried to blog today. Really, I did. It’s the thought that counts though. Right?

Costa Rica | Kulik Photography

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February 9, 2015

You’re never too old for a woobie. Right? Right?!

I have a confession. I have a woobie. You know, that little security blanket that you must have in order to sleep. It’s a little bedraggled. Probably doesn’t get washed enough. It’s wrinkled and worn and absolutely a necessity for a good night’s sleep. Yup, I’m thirty-cough ahem- some odd- ahem- cough years old and I have a woobie.

I would like to introduce you to “The Original”…

Woobie | Kulik Photography

This beautiful quilt was made by my grandmother when I was a baby. It is thirty-cough ahem- some odd- ahem- cough years old. Years ago, my mom came across it and sent it my way. I was delighted and instantly snatched it up as if I was suddenly 5 years old again. With absolutely no concept of wear and tear on old (who are you calling old?!) fabric, I threw the thing onto my bed, and it was my new best friend. I loved staring at the stitches, seeing the imperfections, knowing that my Bucki made each one of those stitches with her own hands, with me on her mind. Every night I balled it up and tucked it under my arm and slept soundly.

And then it starting falling apart. And I started learning to sew. And I had a brilliant idea. I would make myself a new woobie, so I could preserve what was left of The Original.

Quilt | Kulik Photography

This is only the third quilt I have made and it still stands as one of my all time favorites. I actually want to re-create it as a large bed-sized quilt, but I absolutely cannot find that low-volume print anywhere and cannot remember for the life of me where I found it (it is very hard to see, but it has very pale blue birds on it….if anyone knows who makes it, I’ll be your new best friend!!!)

Quilt | Kulik Photography

The back. There are lots of things I do not enjoy about trying to teach myself a craft on my own, but one of the things I do enjoy is that fact that since I don’t know what I am doing, I just sort of wing it, and usually end up loving the end result. I looooove the back of this quilt so very much.

Quilt | Kulik Photography Quilt | Kulik Photography Quilt | Kulik Photography Quilt | Kulik Photography

Interesting Fact: In this post I mentioned that I put a little piece of my baby quilt in each of my quilt sandwiches. This is where this started. When I realized that I never ever should have put my baby quilt to use as an actual quilt, I was devastated to realize that a) I ruined it and b) it now was “useless”. At first I accepted the fact I would just need to fold her up and keep her in the closet if I wanted to preserve what was left of it. And then I thought about how sad that was. My Bucki worked hard on that. For me. The more sewing I do, the more I understand that it is hard work. SO much goes into it, even if many of us do not hand sew anymore, quilting is work. I cannot imagine creating something for someone, only for it to stay in a closet, hidden away. And so with quilt #3, I began a tradition. It was slightly painful when I did it, but I went into the closet, and I tore a small piece of fabric off of my baby quilt. And I placed it inside of the quilt sandwich. I questioned my decision at first. Did I seriously just purposely tear a piece of fabric off of my precious quilt? GAH! But I did. And more than anything, I love knowing that I have found a way of mending our two arts into one. And knowing that I can carry her memory in each of my own creations. I hope in my heart that she would approve, and be proud.

 

Quilt Details:

Name: Woobie Pie

Size: 32 x 32

Completed: December 2012

Fabric: Amy Butler Midwest Modern Linen, mystery low-volume blue birds *sigh*, embarrassingly low quality fabric from JoAnns. *averting eye contact*

Quilting: by me

 

February 2, 2015

I will always return

Costa Rica | Kulik Photography

I have been met with surprise each time that I tell someone that we will be going to Costa Rica for a vacation.

Again?” they will ask.

Yes. Again.

“But didn’t you just go last year?”

I will always return to Costa Rica. It will always be my go-to vacation. There are so many places on this beautiful planet that I would love to see and explore and experience. But I will always choose to return to Costa Rica. This country has had such a strange hold on me since my first visit. When I first set foot on it’s soil. When I first met the warmth of it’s culture.

On my first visit more than 10 years ago,  I was no more than 5 minutes in my friend’s home when the wife of one of his friends grabbed my hand and whisked me away down the city streets, winding through a maze of walkways and neighborhoods until I found myself in her family’s neighborhood, in the home of her mother, surrounded my a mass of women asking me questions in a language I had absolutely no grasp of. I sat in pure terror. And spoke to them in English. And they spoke to me in Spanish. And I swear we managed to have a conversation. We still somehow managed to understand each other.

I am a person that is forever uncomfortable. In her surroundings. In her own skin. I can always feel the edge of my anxiety, threatening to cut. And somehow, in a country that takes me miles and miles outside of my comfort zone, I feel more at home than I feel anywhere else. Costa Rica is good for me. It does something to my mind. It quiets it. It settles it. It reminds me of what is important and where my focus should be.

Costa Rica let’s me know that I am always welcome, and for that I will always return.