Last week I wrote about the glee I felt finding Savers here in Albuquerque, which means that I can readily source raw materials – i.e., used t-shirts – for my rugs and mats. This week it’s all about finding new markets and one market in particular, Albuquerque’s kick-ass Rail Yards Market.

So, Sunday morning rolled around and we had a choice. I’d seen ads for the Rail Yards Market offering farm, food, and arts vendors a chance to show off and

sell their wares. But I’d also read about the Garlic Festival in nearby Rio Rancho. Hmmmm… A dilemma when you like to cook with and eat garlic as much as Tom and me, him with his Lebanese heritage and all and me with, well, just a love of the stuff. Given that it promised food and arts too, garlic was in the lead. BUT only until I read that the Rail Yards was hosting the 7th annual recycling arts fair. All the art had to be up- and re-cycled! Much like my t-shirt and other rugs! Wheels turned in the brain. We decided to see if perhaps my rugs might fit in at the 8th annual fair next year.

 

Off we went and, boy, every expectation was met. We purchased some fabulously tasty tomatoes straight from the farmers who grew them. Revolution Bakery provided me with a great gluten-free macaroon. Alas, that did not prevent me from sharing a basket-full of Caribbean fritters with Tom. They were decidedly NOT gluten-free, but so worth it. Not sure who that vendor was. There were music performers and story-tellers for the kids.

Best of all, I met and spoke with artists who clued me into the local scene. It appears to be quite vibrant. Darlene Fortier kindly filled me in on local art groups and communities as well as various markets and fairs coming up. Between them and the fiber artist resources I’ve found, I think that hooking in Albuquerque is going to be a beautiful thing.

Enjoy the pics! And please email me if you have any additional info regarding New Mexico’s art scene and markets.

Hooking: It really is the main point of this website. Unfortunately, the stress of the last couple of month’s hasn’t been good for it. Not that I haven’t done it at all, mind you. That would be writing. I love to read and write fiction. In fact, I’m an assistant editor for the utterly fabulous, I-bet-you-can’t-wait-to-get-a-copy literary journal Fifth Wednesday. Rather, I’m usually an assistant editor. I had to sit this reading period out in order to deal with the sale of our house and the move to New Mexico. Worse, I run a local writing group, and I haven’t submitted a thing in months for the others to comment on. They’ve been very patient with me. But what would they do? Fire me?

Truthfully, I have managed to hook during this time. My sanity’s relied on it. Not that it’s been quality work, but at least I’ve done it. (Process, it’s all about the process of art, not the result. At least isn’t that what they say?) I generally hook while I watch TV in the evening; if not, I fall asleep. But the concentration’s just not there.

I recently finished a pretty big chair pad for my boss at the food pantry. He, being a priest and all, it was for the “throne” (my word, not his) that he sits on during Mass. I’d gotten through half of the mat when I had to admit that…it sucked wind. The wool just wasn’t working for me. I pulled out every one of my hand-cut strips and subbed in two aqua-colored yarns. They weren’t bad. Admittedly, the design was simplistic, created with the church’s kids in mind and my boss’s proclivity for the Maine coast.

Eventually, I finished hooking, steaming, and binding. Early one work morning, I stole into the church to make sure it fit the throne. Perfection! Until I noticed one thing: I’d drawn the damn fish upside down. DUH! My co-worker told me it was beautiful, that he’d love it. And I knew he would — because I’d made it specially for him.

Nonetheless, I have my pride. And while I don’t think a rug has to be perfect – it is a handmade item, after all, and imperfections are part of the charm – it can’t be so…incorrect. I may give it to him. Or I might not. But as soon as I get settled in New Mexico, I will be hooking a new pad for his throne. Not for his benefit or even mine, but because it’s worth doing something right if you’re going to do it at all.

Please tell me I’m not alone in my gaffe. Share one of your big boo-boos to make me feel better. Is it locked away in a cedar chest forever? Or do you take it out now and again to remind yourself of how far you’ve come?