Author: Pam Holland

For dedicated quilters, going to Asilomar is like a week long creative party.

I met the most interesting man at lunch. He had the cutest round glasses and of course I told him so… then we had a conversation about glasses.

It was great to visit with him, we talked about the psychology of creativity. Those little surprises are precious. He mentioned that some people live their creativity, it affects everything they do. I never looked at it that way.

Living the life folks. – The journey of the traveling Grandma.

Day 24 of 89 on the road. The day began early. Very early. Check the weight of the luggage, I am so sick of lifting luggage, my arms ache, but I had to do it again, no one else is there to do if for me.   Scoot down to the lobby and wait for the shuttle to the airport. I didn’t have any coffee in the system so I thought I did pretty darn well. The lobby was full even at that time of the day and as I walked to the exit, I made sure I had the right amount of cash for a tip to the guy who took my luggage down. There’s nothing worse that trying to find a tip in front of the recipient. I left a $5 tip for the maid in the room yesterday. Jaya (aged 5) wondered what it was for and I explained that it was a ‘kindness donation’ because the lady worked hard to clean my room and look after me so nicely.  She looked …

Living the life folks. – The journey of the traveling Grandma.

I’m a ‘something’ year old Grandmother living the dream of traveling and teaching, creating and photographing and working darn hard simply because I love it.  Day 23 of 89 on the road. Sitting at my desk in the Hilton Los LAX, Los Angeles. The sun’s going down and I see a number of planes in the sky maybe they’re  landing, maybe they’re taking off, but every move of the plane sends shards of reflected light floating through the air. It’s rather beautiful in the orange glow of sunset. I’m munching on a rather dry croissant and sipping coke zero. Not the most healthy of meals but never the less it fills a space. The time at home in South Australia is 12.12 pm and its lunch time, so the body says eat. It takes me a few days  to tell the body that we are on the other side of the world with 16 hours time difference. One thing I’ve learned from many years of travel is to eat when you’re hungry, no matter what …

My travels my inspiration.

I’ve been on an Invitational lecture tour traveling through 8 cities  visiting the artists of the area. It was an absolute honor.  I met wonderful people, I had the opportunity to share my ideas on textile arts with literally 100’s of people.  I took a few thousand photos, wrote pages of dialogue and the weeks of preparation by my PA and I prior to the trip paid off and I have a sense of satisfaction that I actually achieved it.

The Adventures of the Amazing Alphabet, creating the “D” for door.

One day I decided to go to the village of Gruddley. I went to the smallest house in the village. I was told it was Princess Tilly’s house. I knocked gently. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. “Anyone home?’ No one answered so I walked inside.  “Hello?’ Still no one answered. I tip toed own the passage and I came to a big brown door. It was known as “D” for door.  I had heard a rumour that at the top of the stairs to the cellar below, lived Mr Darstardly Derwain Aderifski. No one ever saw him, just his crumply “D” hand scrabbling up and down the door as it Dreee-ee-eked open. DREE-EE-EE-EEK. “Whats the password?’ He said in a creaky voice. “Grapes and Gravy” “Who are you?” “Where do you live” “Did you change your socks this morning? I can’t bear the smell” Life was hard for Mr Darstardly. Nobody ever saw his face. Just his wrinkly crinkly hand. He pulled open the door with exaggerated effort and a strong smell of lavender and mint wafted …

The adventures of the Amazing Alphabet “C”

  “What is this, an Alphabet or something”  I asked Miss “A’s head wobbled  …  she shifted awkwardly on her spindly legs. She dropped her head and looked sideways. “Anyone for a cuppa?” Chirped a sweet voice . A cup with a tippy teapot and spindly leg popped up from another drawer. “Would you like a nice cup of tea dear”? it said. I couldn’t work out whether it was a lady or a man. But now it has a head I realise it was a chirpy voiced lady. The teapot swung dangerously on her long “C” arm. The teapot jiggled and Joggled.       What a surprise, I had met, A, B, C. now.