Jim Bradshaw: Jim loves everything art and creative and puts that passion into all assignments. Humorous illustration and cartoon surrealism is what he is drawn to. Some topics you’ll find showing up in his recent work are dreams, the tyranny of time, life & death, childhood versus the tainted adult world we all exist in, good and evil and just plain fun whacked out made up worlds that swirl around in Jim’s brain.
MaxEquations is a labor of love created by myself, Eve in partnership with my husband, Gary. He provides the business knowledge while I design our clothing and communicate with our customers. I have a varied background in the arts, as does Gary, but no direct experience in designing clothing until now. Strangely enough, I spent thousands of hours of my childhood drawing fashion designs. Who knew?
After the collection is designed, I work hand in hand with Linda Synder, our in house seamstress and pattern maker, who helps make my ideas come to life.
The clothing is then hand painted by our artist, Brian Metz. Our painted images are based on a seasonal theme determined by myself and designed along with Brian who paints each piece to order.
Textile art as jewelry. Earrings and a brooch. Strung with grace, colors chosen with style.
Evocative of childhood and creativity.
$30 for the set from Maria Cavallero.
So peaceful and relaxing, mostly because it is quite possible that I’ve found a houseplant I can’t kill!
LBRANDTerraria: My three little ones, 5 yrs and under, are the inspiration behind each design. They help critique my every garden. Tends to be quite a challenging panel to pass!
A number of my childhood summers were spent at a card table. Handmade pixie sticks, otter pops,creepy crawlers, and boondoggle bookmarks were some of what my summer sales conisisted of.
For reasons I have yet to uncover, much of my childhood was not retained — at least not by me. I do not remember the games I played, the friends I had. I do not remember my favorite food, my first crush. I remember insignificant moments of notable events, but very few everyday nuances.
I remember exactly what the gas mask looked like as it approached my face when I had my tonsils taken out in, but nothing else about the second grade. I remember the sound my sister’s feet made when she stepped on the steel plate in our driveway at 3:30 in the afternoon on a hot, sunny summer afternoon; the plate that could have, at that moment, probably fried an egg. I do not however, remember a single other day spent playing in that driveway, though I know from the stories she tells they were plentiful.
In fact, the only small, every day occurrence I remember in detail is also the only every day occurrence I remember at all. Peculiarly, it’s the only memory I have that can at even the slightest hint of its components flood my senses with everything it is made of.