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<\/a><\/p>\nSpring seems to have found this area of the world, days are warmer and the sun shines – leading to me spending more time working in the garden than in the studio. However, I created two ‘longing’ collages last week… and my work desk is not as empty anymore. Come on in and have a look.<\/p>\n
To start with, the golden oldie<\/strong> layout \u2013 lifted from one of my old scrapbook albums.<\/p>\n (I don’t create ‘traditional scrapbook layouts’ anymore but every Wednesday I dive into my albums and lift a ‘golden oldie.’ The layouts I pick are random, YOU – blogreaders – name the number of the album and layout to show. Let me know in a comment which album you want me to open next week<\/strong> and what layout I should show… )<\/p>\n This week’s request came from Daniella<\/a>. She asked me to open album 1 and show layout #1.<\/p>\n This one is special – this layout brought me to blogging! It was in 2008 that I discovered challenge blogs for scrapbookers on the web… until that date, I did not spend much time on the computer but when I discovered these challenge blogs, I got hooked. The first time I ever played along – using a scrap challenge – was at ScrapMojo – Challenge 24<\/a><\/p>\n I made a layout but I had no blog or gallery to upload my layout to… so I emailed Marie from ScrapMojo, submitting my layout, and she kindly put it in the online ScrapMojo gallery. I loved seeing my layout there, and right at that moment I decided to start blogging. My blog was online two weeks later. Here’s the layout that lead to that.<\/p>\n Journaling:<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n The year is 1967.\u00a0 I am four years old. I live in a small village. A very small village. 800 residents. Common people. Country people. Farmers and provincials.<\/em><\/p>\n My parents are hippies. well, sort of – my dad owns a gallery. He sells antiques, art and bric-a-brac. Very sixties. And he is a passionated photographer. I love my dad.<\/em><\/p>\n My mum is a poet. She wanders along the seashore a lot to collect shells and words. She picks flowers from the fields and mushrooms from the forest, which we eat. She sings and plays with me. I love my mum.<\/em><\/p>\n September 1967 I go to school. Kindergarten. I am enthusiastic about it. I dance, I sing, I draw, I play. I make lots of friends bu, at the end of the day, when the mothers pick us all up, I see it too… that what the other children told me.<\/em><\/p>\n Their mums have short, neatly set, hair (my mum’s hair is long and black.) Their mums wear decent skirts (my mum’s closet is filled with colorful Indian dresses.) Their mums have little pearls in their ears (the big earrings my mum wears tinkle with each step she makes.) And their mums pick lettuce from their kitchen garden instead of flowers & mushrooms.<\/em><\/p>\n “I love school” I tell my mum when we get home “and I made a lot of friends. I like the other children and they like me but mum, they all are a bit afraid of you.” … and then I say it. “Is it true?” I ask her “Are you a witch?”<\/em><\/p>\n My mum looks at me and starts to giggle. I start to giggle too. We cannot stop it. We laugh louder and louder. We laugh ’till our stomachs hurt.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I skipped last week, but this week I am back with two small collages for Glue it Tuesday<\/a>. These collages are made on index cards that go in my Box of Longing<\/a>.<\/p>\n On these two cards I used paper scraps cut out the same magazine pages… so they match together as a ‘duo’ (diptych). I even found matching texts.<\/p>\n WOYWW #203<\/strong><\/p>\n Here’s my work desk for this weeks What’s On Your Work desk Wednesday<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n