Squeak.

When I fired up my sewing machine on Thursday there was a squeak. I opened her up and oiled what I knew to oil, cleaned out all the loose bits and fluff, and tried again. More squeak. Rhythmic, abrasive squeak. It got worse, to the point where I couldn't stand to keep sewing.

So I took it apart.

Naked.

I bought this machine in West Virginia my last year of grad school, so 2007. It is a "Singer Prelude" and I think it was $80 from Target. Not a fine machine, but it certainly is a work horse. I have worked like mad with it, sewing mostly paper. In West Virginia, California, North Carolina, and Wyoming.

We get around.

So anyway, I boldly started unscrewing things, with no manual or plan...

Delighted to report that this all ends well. I found the squeak, oiled the squeak, and put everything back together. She is purring like a kitten.

Not at all how I thought I'd get started in the studio here. I've been sewing on some book covers, and yesterday I did a bit of printing, which I regret. It caused more frustration than anything else, and I am going to delay using the press for a while longer, until I am a little clearer in my head. And I am still awaiting some large sheets of paper.

I've been drawing, but more than anything filling sheets of paper with patterns. I think I'm just forcing myself to slow down and not force things...does that make sense?

What else can I share?

Snow on ice on river.

The animal tracks are my favorite. More snow, please.

How 'bout you send me mail?

Michelle Moode
c/o Jentel Artist Residency
132 Lower Piney Rd.
Banner, WY 82832