A LITTLE OF THIS, A LITTLE OF THAT

Every spring I am invited to the presale of a very frozen-in-time church basement rummage sale, and as you can imagine, it is nothing short of heaven on earth. With long makeshift tables held up by wooden legs, this vast, stained glass space is filled to the brim with old dishes, vases, pots and spoons, lamps without shades neighboured by a sea of mix and match shades and a fifty cent table of ever-memorable knicknacks like a palm-sized china lamb, tiny hand-painted tea pot and rug-hooked poodle with a little pink tongue. Amidst the clatter of the dishes and cheerful chit chat of the church ladies, I find my way to the end of the room, with rays of light beaming down on no other than the linen section in all her glory. So pristinely organized, I am privy to a goldmine of textile treasure with embroidered table cloths still in their original wedding day gift boxes, hand-knit throws that have been very much loved and lived with, vintage sheet sets neatly labeled with their size in masking tape and marker and bins and baskets filled with bobbins, thread and fabric remnants from sewing rooms of the past. With my heart and ideas racing faster than I can keep up with, every design that will come out of me next is born then and there. The dishes inspire the dresses, the table cloths make the camisoles and the fabric scraps form the frills. But more than anything, it is the sheer thrill of the find that I want to capture most. A glorious ramshackle of bits and pieces, lives, homes and stories, and the joy of mixing them all together. This is the feeling I hope will live on in the work I do, and to somehow forever be a part of the rummage.