strawberry picking: perception vs. reality
Last weekend, I decided to go strawberry picking.

I drove through the country side with high ambition: I’d bake a pie, definitely. And I planned to make more awesome granola to top with the freshest strawberries. And maybe throw together a jam, you know, if I just have too many strawberries to deal with. Mmm.

I headed into the fields with my giant cardboard crate and began to look for strawberries.

They were all so cute! So tiny! So organic and genetically unmanipulated!
But they were also so close to the ground, and so far apart, and soon I got tired of flipping over the perfect looking ones to find a squishy, bug-laden underside. Plus, I think I like the genetically modified strawberries… sorry, but these just weren’t the greatest.

Without shame or regret for my ambitions, I weighed my meager haul and headed back home. No pie, no jams, not even fresh granola, but I did have some great strawberries on my cereal that week :) And it was a good adventure, with fresh air and cool breezes and bright sunshine. I even got the ghost of a tan during those 15 minutes in the fields!
And the trip was fruitful in a different fashion: I found a fabric store! And they had a whale knit – an orange-bellied whale knit. You don’t find that every day.
Don’t get me wrong – I love picking fresh fruit. But I think I’ll stick to apples and peaches: things that grow on trees.



This is the first time I’ve ever had my work featured in a real gallery. Heck, this is the first time someone has referred to my plush as art! But I like being thought of as an artist, and I definitely like being able to put my creations in an open space for all to see.




I have begun to refer to my room as the Narwhal Factory (others may argue for One-Woman-Sweatshop), considering that besides homework, eating, and sleeping (in that order), narwhals are basically what I do. I’m not complaining. I’m almost complaining. It’s stressful at times. But this is an awesome college job.






















