Sew it Swift, Sew it Sweet

Last year, I made these pillows for loved ones, but stitching them by hand took hours:

So this spring, I asked MJ to teach me how to use her sewing machine. I practiced my first machine-made stitches along these letters:

With the sewing machine, it was speedy to make this pillow for my skull-loving hair stylist:

For Mother's Day, I sewed a clef note my musical mom, and a peanut for MJ's elephant-loving mom:

MJ then showed me some YouTube tutorials on how to sew animals from socks.

So I sewed her a bunny from a sock:

Then I made an otter:

And this summer, I sewed a queen bee for MJ's birthday:

It's super when we learn new ways to make gifts for loved ones, swiftly!

Last Drop

On August 3rd, 2011, I received this email:

Renato attached these photos of his mom's beautiful crochet work:

I gratefully replied, and Renato sent me another email:

I accepted his kind invitation, and suggested we meet at the garden where the Raining Cats and Dogs were installed 1.5 years ago. One raindrop remained:

Susan the Bull Terrier

Renato's girlfriend, Weiping, took photos while MJ recorded this video of our meet:

August 17, 2011

And here are the intricately-crocheted gifts that Renato's mom, Anita, made in Brazil...

An angel:

A pouch with rosary beads:

Thank you, Renato, for arranging our first meeting, which also became a fitting farewell for the last raindrop. And thank you, Anita, for reaching out and sharing your divine yarn creations!

Photos by Weiping, taken at Davie Village Community Garden 
in Vancouver on August 17, 2011

And so—on this sunny summer day—a raindrop fell and the distance between two continents (& two crocheters) was bridged by a few feet of yarn!


UPDATE - Sept 12, 2011:

Renato just sent me this email, after viewing the latest blog entry:

Here are photos of Anita with her fun family, two raindrops (Shorty & Susan), and some WooWork trinkets (including an early ice cream cone):

And here are new photos of Anita's creations, including the vinyl record she crocheted for her musical son, Nedu:

All my gratitude and good wishes to Anita's kind-hearted and creative family!

Speaking of my Grandfather

On the same week I visited my dad, I attended my grandfather's funeral. Though it was a sad event, my grandfather lived a full and happy life. He had the opportunity to say goodbye to everyone before passing away peacefully, surrounded by loved ones. He was 89 years old.

My grandfather with my dad in the late sixties.

My grandmother and my grandfather in the nineties.

Here's a video of our family (with Woomi) visiting him two years ago to celebrate his birthday:

He was fluent in the Ningbo and Shanghai dialect of Chinese, and spoke basic English. Every time I visited my Grandfather, he would ask me: "So, you cannot speak Chinese anymore?" I'd reply that I could understand the language but not speak it well. Eventually, I just said: "No, not really."

For a farewell gift, I wanted to say something to him in Chinese.  So I crocheted him this speech bubble with something he and I shared: our last name.

"Woo" is embroidered as its Chinese character: 鄔

I felt fortunate to place the speech bubble in his casket before the cremation ceremony.

Most of the eulogies were spoken in Chinese, where I learned he was married to my grandma for sixty-nine years, that he spent cautiously on himself but was generous to others, that he loved practicing calligraphy and listening to Chinese operas, that he was an even-tempered dad, and that he treated his six daughters and one son equally. He taught them to keep their promises, as he was was a man of his word.

Hsien Teh Woo, 1921-2010

May you rest in peace, Grandfather.

Business by the Book

Here's my dad when he was in his twenties:

And here's me and my dad in 1977, when I was three years old:

Growing up, my Dad and I had little in common. I loved doing artistic things, like drawing and creative-writing. He loved conducting business, like selling mechanical seals, co-founding a chinese restaurant, and investing in soup vending machines.

But in 1987, my Dad and I shared an unexpected interest. He took me to see Wall Street, and I became entranced by the exciting world of stock trading.

My dad then invited me to choose nine stocks from which he would buy some shares. He taught me how to look up those share prices and track their progress in this notebook:

The mysterious stock abbreviations, the difference between NASDAQ and the NYSE, the dramatic charts and numbers: my dad confirmed the wonder that Wall Street promised, and I could understand why he became a business man.

One morning—dizzy with excitement and seeking confirmation—I exclaimed:

My parents reacted with stunned expressions. My artistic mom probably offered an opposing view, but what I remember most is how my dad didn't say a word.

The next year, my dad and I stopped following the stock market when he fell ill with cancer. He was in the hospital for many months before passing away at the age of 41. I was 13.

As a teenager, I reaffirmed my true love for art. As a grown-up, my joy and job is learning, creating and sharing art. Would I have been wealthier as a stock broker? Yes. Am I happier as an artist? Yes.

In retrospect, what I valued most was the time my dad and I spent together, knowing we had something in common.

For this Father's Day, I made a mini version of our Stock Market Notebook:

And I presented it to him:

Some people are vocal encouragers, like my wonderful mom. Others are vocal discouragers. But there are also people who—like my dad—wordlessly encourage us to find our own paths to happiness.

Thank you, Dad.

And happy Father's Day, everyone. In what ways has your dad encouraged you?