Memories in a Suitcase

While visiting family in Melbourne recently I stumbled upon an old suitcase amongst my sister Phyllis’s possessions. I admired it from afar as she gave me a history of her childhood stamp collection, that she had carried around in the suitcase from Johannesburg South Africa to Rhodesia, back to Cape Town and then finally to Melbourne, Australia. So I wandered over to the suitcase and discovered it was my old school case. Memories came tumbling out and I wondered what happened to my class mates from 1960 FORM 111D Roosevelt Park, High School, Johannesburg. If anyone knows, hey please let me know.

Talking about memories:
I am reminded of a trip I took two years after the death of my daughter Hayley who was killed in a car crash at age 19. She had been on her way from Cape Town to Johannesburg with her boyfriend, who survived the crash.
In reality I needed some sort of closure and wanted to follow her trip through the Karoo and rest under the tree that she and her boyfriend had rested, minutes before that fateful accident. Normally very gregarious, I had been so silent since we set off from Cape Town.
Sid, my long time companion was driving and he slowed the car down every so often to just to check that I was still breathing and alive. We arrived at the spot where the big shady tree stood and Sid went off to fill the car with gas and he left me alone to honour Hayley’s memory and shed my tears. . After a time I returned to the car and we once again continued on our journey.
Ten minutes later there was a fork in the road, one road led to the Johannesburg where we were headed and one road let to Durban. As soon as I saw that sign I perked up.
“Sid, I want to take the Durban road and visit my old Boarding school”

My memories of Newcastle dated back some 40 odd years. It was a small town with few tarred roads, and a couple of motels and shops. At the one end of the main road was the Train station and at the other was a dirt road that led straight into St Dominics.
Sid and I arrived in the town when it was dark. I tried to get my bearings with 40 year old memories. To my shock I discovered that the Train station had been relocated out of the town years previously as the town prospered However, to my delight St Dominics was still a school, but no longer a Convent for Girls as it had been in my day.

The next day we located the school. I wandered around until I found some ladies working in the office. They showed me around, taking me into classrooms, and introducing me to the pupils and teachers. It was moving for me indeed to see not only boys and girls but a completely racially integrated school. In the 50’ the political buzz word was the Group Areas Act. There was talk of relocating different racial Groups and moving the few Indian families living close to the school into some isolated place.
Now it was a different time. Mandela was President and integration was the political buzz word. I marvelled at how far we had journeyed. But I digress.
As we walked along a passage leading to the Assembly Hall, I spotted a small door with a padlock beneath an adjoining building. Fascinated I stopped as memories came flooding back “The Box Room” I exploded.
“We have been trying for years to figure out what this door is for,” said the lady who was escorting me.
Nostalgia hit me as I reminisced about the assortment of labelled suitcases, trunks and luggage bags lined up outside the “box room “ for the pupils to collect and pack before going home for the holidays. Mine was special. It was made by my father in his Engineering factory: steel, sprayed light grey, rounded edges and must have weighed 50lbs, no mean feat for a 10 year old girl to carry.
Above picture is:
l-r Phyllis Hoffman,Elaine Sackson, Elizabeth Hertz taken at St Dominics 1955

Felted Vests. A Step-by-Step Guide

My sister Phyllis Hoffman has shrunk centimetres since we last met 2yrs ago. That is expected, as we are both in our senior years but her shrinkage has been sizable.
So what has her newly released book “Felted Vests” got to do with her body shrinkage? Strangely enough, a lot.

One day, when we were kids, our older sister Elizabeth who was 10 yrs old took her pocket money and decided to treat us to a bus ride to the Big City to go shopping without telling our parents. The next thing we were shipped off to St Dominics Academy, Newcastle, Natal, a Catholic boarding school for girls, far away from home.
I found friends, and caused havoc with midnight feasts and ghost stories. Elizabeth became a model student and played the violin, while 7 year old Phyllis was taken under the wing and nurtured by Sister Clare, the Dormitory nun. She taught Phyllis to knit and sew and created in her a lifelong creative passion for handiwork.

After 4 yrs we left the Convent, but the die was cast for Phyllis’s creative passion. As a teenager she suffered from severe back pain which ultimately turned out to be Scoliosis. Besides the pain, Phyllis couldn’t find clothes that fitted her unaligned body, so she started making her own clothes and, as commercial patterns didn’t fit, she started adjusting and making her own patterns, while bringing up children, studying, teaching, sewing and writing books.

Over the years, Phyllis relocated with her growing family from Rhodesia ( Zimbabwe) to South Africa and finally to Melbourne, Australia where all her creative skills have culminated in her latest book.

As a Felter, the book captured my attention. The cover is bright, and fresh and the title is exactly what it says “Felted Vests A Step-by-Step Guide.” I have read the book from cover to cover and will tell you why I like it, aside from her being my sister! 1. When she writes and gives descriptions it is as though she is speaking to her reader. 2. She gives the names of equipment required. Important especially for pattern making. 3. The layout is clear and concise and it is easy to navigate the book. 4. She shows graphically how to draft a basic pattern and take measurements. 5. She also shares how to make silk paper and illustrates decorative stitches. Although Phyllis's bones may have shrunk, her latest book will surely expand interest in sharing with her the art of making elegant felted clothes. Elaine

Zen of Wire

My life changed forever when I met Eli. Artist, Sculptor and Teacher, Eli's natural manner and gentleness guides and inspires his students of which I am part.
As a Felter I wanted to master fashioning wire skeletons onto which I would add layers and layers of merino wool and wet felt it into cats and dogs and people and whatever my mind could conjure.

Eli gave me a roll of wire and pliers and left me alone. He returned some time later to find me entangled in a mesh of wire . Oh dear, I was so clueless. And so my first lesson followed with a discussion of proportions ,diagrams, books were brought out and techniques were demonstrated. I loved that and then I was left alone while I internalised all I had learned and honed my new craft.

The weeks flew by as I cut and wound meters of wire morphing Adam into Eve , widening her hips and narrowing her shoulders until one day Eve emerged weighing close to a solid 1000g /2.2lbs of wire. She looked good, but what to do with her. Aha, it dawned on me that some years ago, my partner Faz had made a stand for jewelry. I stood her inside the tree shaped wire and she looked comfortable and at peace, but I sensed from the depths of her wired soul she yearned for company.

The idea of Adam was disgarded and over the next few weeks I fashioned four playful Wirelings to hover around her. I believe that she enjoys their company . I wanted to create a fun and interactive sculpture, something dynamic to play with, which I promise I do regularly as I pass my Wirelings every day on the way out the front door, I move them around and see that they are behaving themselves.

I felt so priveledged to have recently had Eve and her Wirelings on display at an exhibition in Israel.

Elaine

Jerusalem

The unrelenting humidity of the Ra'anana summer nudged me to take a daytrip to Jerusalem. I longed to chill out in the airconditioned bus travelling to the dryer heat of the hills of Jerusalem, passing shady forests, and finally catching the glow of the Jerusalem skyline. The tour was to the newly revamped Israel Museum, Sculpture Garden and Shrine of the Book in Jerusalem.

It is always fun to meet up with other expatriat South Africans . You can sit next to a total stranger on a bus and end up with a 2nd cousin twice removed . Well that is what Jewish geography is about...connections. But I digress.

The original Israel Museum , built atop the Hill of Tranquility was inaugurated in 1965. It was designed by Architect Alfred Mansfeld with the interior designer Dora Gad . Mansfeld's plan was inspired by the modernists of the time. His concept was for a modular system of spaces with potential for expansion. Over the years the Museum grew but there was always a disconnect and fragmentation between the Entrance and various Exhibition halls. The newly revamped Israel Museum at a cost of some $100,000 million somehow solidifies the architecture, ambience, art and exihibits into a truly memorable experience.
A very interesting enclosed walkway Route of Passage bridging the Museum entrance with the Gallery Entrance has been built. At the end of the route of passage is an amazing rainbow installation by Olafur Eliasson "Whenever the Rainbow Appears".
From afar, the rainbow appears to be painted on one flat surface. As you get closer you see the 300 hand painted canvases each measuring 5 x 240 cm. extending
15 mtres with the spectrum of light visible to the human eye.

I love meandering around Art galleries and Sculpture Gardens and Museums. It always inspires creativity. My latest felted bag with silk inlays reeminds me somewhat of textiles used long long ago.
I recently stumbled upon a Decorative Art exhibition and was fascinated by an interesting shaped chair covered with musical notes. A kind of " Musical chair" It was the work of Anat Nitzan, Artist and Art Curator.

To Family, Friends and Followers
L'Shona Tova
May you all be Blessed with Love, Light and Joy for the New Year.

Elaine

Fashion Fusion

In addition to FELT4U’s virtual store, we are excited that our nuno felted wraps are now available at the Julia milano boutique on Tel Aviv’s most upmarket shopping area, Kikar Hamedina. The Kikar (‘Square’) is the hotspot for those looking for their label fix - Giorgio Armani, Ralph Lauren and Gucci are all here.
Julia milano bills itself as a store for luxury basics. This is the flagship outlet in Israel for the Milan based leather goods manufacturers which started as a family business in 1950. We love the soft leather of the bags the craftsmanship and the innovative design – the straw effect Summer bag caught our eye as did the lightweight Bauletto bag in kidskin. Take a look at www.Juliamilano.com
We paired our Emerald Rags to Riches wrap with a stunning diamante studded evening dress, while a Purple Rags to Riches wrap draped beautifully over a floral cocktail dress both with the quintessential Italian flair.

Now I am hooked...

My older sister ( I have two sisters and a brother ) got an ipod for her last birthday. To be honest her daughter actually won it in a lottery and sold it to her mother and the family contributed so in the end her daughter had made some money on her lottery win to buy her twin sons their 3rd birthday presents. Money –go –round, but what the heck its all in the family. The reason I mention this is because with her ipod she subscribes to Amazons audio books and raves how wonderful it is to sit quietly, eyes closed, feet up and listen to a story being read. Almost like when you were a child and a grown up reads a story with accents and expressions.
So I went shopping and bought a SanDisk Sansa MP3 on which you can listen to stories and music. It is tiny and easily clips onto your clothes or bag without getting you too entangled. . Now I am hooked.

Today I decided to nuno felt a Rags to Riches scarf/shawl in black. . I designed it with an extra long panel of black merino wool and random pieces of flowing silk. When the scarf was complete I added a further piece to create a shawl and nuno felted them together.
The early morning sun rose as my hands beavered away at my craft. My whole being rapt with listening to The Shell Seekers on my MP3. And when the light had faded and the story had ended I marvelled at the lightness of a day of nuno felting a versatile garment.

Rags to Riches

NEWS FLASH...
Look like a million dollars wearing one of a kind handmade Rags to Riches nuno felted artwear by FELT 4U

Wouldn't you agree that Rags to Riches stories inspire and motivate us?.
You only have to think of Ophrah Winfrey and Bill Gates to name a few who have in recent times achieved their "American Dream"
By creating role models, who with hardwork, courage and detemination overcome the odds and become rich and famous , you can believe that somewhere in the universe opportunities exist waiting for takers to achieve their ultimate dreams. .

My most impressionable rags to riches story comes from the 1954 Gregory Peck movie called The Million Pound Note based on the short story "The £1,000,000 Bank-Note" by Mark Twain.

Two rich brothers, Oliver and Roderick Montpelier, wage a bet with each other whereby they get their bank to issue a million pound note . Oliver says that the mere possession of this symbol of wealth will enable anyone to have anything he wants, without having to cash the note, whilst Roderick maintains that to not cash the note will render it useless. Bear in mind this is London at the turn of the 20th Century where social status and snobbery is how society functions..

Along comes Henry Adams, a penniless sailor from America who is stranded in London with no money to return home . The brothers give him an envelope with a sum of money to be opened later. Starving, and freezing in the dead of winter Henry thinks that the envelope will likely contain sufficient money to cover a meal at a nice warm restaurant. Scruffily dressed he enters a restaurant and is warily eyed by the Restauranteur and his wife and banished to a back table where he eats his hearty meal.

When Henry gets the bill, he opens the envelope, given by the brothers Montpelier and to his utter surprise there is a clean crisp million pound note which he duly presents to the propreitor for his dinner. On confirmation that the note is genuine, and with a hint that this scruffy man is in all liklihood an eccentric millonnaire from Amererica, Henry's world changes. He is treated like royalty and viewed as a man of enormous means, given credit, doors and power are suddenly wide open to this simple impoverished sailor. And still he holds onto the intact million pound note, without having to cash it. At one stage the banknote is whipped out of his hand by a gust of wind and a battle ensues between Henry and the wind, to catch the banknote. Fortunatly the sailor prevails and holds tightly onto his million pound banknote.

Newspapers write articles about the American with the million pound notbanknote. Henry receives invitations to meet local society circles and during one of these events he meets Portia Lansdowne, who is the niece of the Duchess of Cromarty. While hobnobbing with societies elite he meets many characters, including an American investor Lloyd Hastings who is looking for capital for an investment in a gold mine. Hastings pursuades Henry to allow him to use, by now famous name in exchange for some gold stock. Very quickly the stock rises with Henry discovering that he has has in fact just gained sixteen thousand pounds from the stock that was bought in his name. Another character who crosses his path is the Duke of Frognal who has a bone to pick with our hero Henry. The wily Duke plots to have the banknote stolen and then spreads rumors that the note no longer exists. . Creditors descend on Henry while his new friends turn their backs on him and to be sure they regard him as an imposter. He promises to pay all his bills from the sale of his stock, but as you can imagine the rumors have caused the shares to become worthless. But honesty prevails and the Duke returns the banknote to Henry just as Portia rushes to his side telling him she loves him rich or poor. The shares stabalise with Henry earning a fortune selling his gold stock. Henry and Portia finally return the intact million pound banknote to the Montpeliers and our once penniless sailor drives off into the sunset with his lovely Portia .

May you all be blessed with health and prosperity for 2010
Elaine