More Maps of Every Place I Can Remember

A few more places that I remember:

 

I don't evidently don't remember very much of that one.

The strange collection of shapes mid-top of this one is supposed to be a playground, but I found that as I was drawing my memory of how parts connected shifted and blurred.

Please pardon the off-kilter nature of these photos. These drawings are currently in a sketchbook, though ideally Maps of Every Place I Can Remember would be displayed differently.  I think I've mentioned it before as an internet-based project. If displayed on a wall, I imagine an expansive smear of maps all pinned overlapping and crowding one another, like the crazy collage on the wall of a servial killer in a movie, or the committed detective.

Grey Banana Republic Skirt

I was so happy with my last Shell Game alteration, which used an old slide of one of my paintings, removed from its casing and sewn into an underskirt, that I decided to do something similar to the pocket of this skirt from Banana Republic.

I went through my old slides, and soon realized that I had so many that I wanted to use, that I could easily stop doing other kinds of alterations altogether, and start just adding slides to things.

To resist this temptation I decided to glut myself on slide additions for this one skirt.  I sewed as many as I could fit to the underside of one of the pockets.  (To the left are photos of what the skirt looked like, turned inside-out, after I added the slides, with the pocket pinned back)

When I returned it, the salesperson who handled the transaction was very concerned about my experience with it.  It went something like:

Salesperson: Why are you returning this?

Me: Oh, uh, it didn't fit.

Salesperson: What was wrong with it?

Me: It wasn't the right size.  I didn't try it on before buying it.

Salesperson:  Oh, I'm just asking because I had the same problem with this skirt. It looked really cute, but didn't fit like the tan one.  Did you get the tan one?

Me: No...

Salesperson: I had the tan one, but it was sized differently, and this one bunched a bit in here.

Me: Oh, that's weird.

Salesperson (looking at the receipt): Oh and you just got it!

And so on.  Apparently my attempts at showing genuine interest in the fit of the skirt were unconvincing, because I looked back from outside the store as I left, and saw her hold the skirt up to the light for scrutiny.  She didn't turn it inside out and flip the pockets, though.

It's Only Part Two? An Almost Perfect Moment

I feel like I've been working on my serial post-it note story about road-tripping grandma/granddaughter for ages, and yet I've only just returned to the library the second installment, secreted inside of Binnie Kirshenbaum's An Almost Perfect Moment.

I'm not sure why I'm having such a difficult time with this story. Perhaps the serial nature of it makes me feel locked in, like I can't do any other post-it books until I'm finished with this tale?  Or perhaps it is just that I don't have as much appropriate experience to draw from?  At any rate, you can read the Kirshenbaum borne part here, if you want to.