....but she showed them a thing or two or three. Slashed, layered and stitched into submission, the fabrics lay defeated. Little did they know she planned to either drag them into the front yard and set them afire OR soak them in acrylic medium and squash them between two sheets of plexiglas or then again, drag them behind the Honda for a few days.
I guess I deserved at least this.
These are all pictures of the same piece, just different views.
Now the question is "What is to be done with these things" or better yet
"Can I borrow a few onions?
approximately 12"...I am too lazy to go upstairs for the tape measure.
Every time I post an update on this piece, this series, it has a new name.
What's up with that RightBrain?
And when, exactly, is enough? I am still inclined to pick it up and settle in with the sewing basket and work on it for nine innings. I am running out of that iridescent sheer stuff and need more as it's finally starting to look like fascia. Ever attend a butchering?
Spankin' stuff, fascia.
"YEEEAHSSSSS!" as the sports announcers are fond of bellowing. I fixed Big J thanks to at least a dozen knowledgeable and generous people from the Quilt Art mailing list. Evidence to the right.
I was in a perfect funk yesterday thinking I was going to have to haul that bugger 45 minutes into Tucker and leave it there for a week or more and then have to shell out who knows how much of an idiot's gouging which I would have richly deserved for not trying to help myself.
Thank you all.
After a great start this morning (see previous post) and some piddling around (this postcard) my Janome decided to derail my creative afternoon. After about an hour of frustration, I took out the old Kenmore only to find her cranky and fussy, refusing to deal with bottom line bobbin thread and hating the fabric I was trying to work with.
Basta! I'm going to finish watching the ball game.
I decided to stop being intimidated by those hand dyed antique fabric. At first I thought I might use them to wash my car first but didn't want to risk losing any brightness. Then I saw the scissors laying there and the evil sister inside took over.It's in the wash right now, getting hairy.
Owlet number one has hatched and I have been spellbound. Yesterday morning I peeked in and all was as usual - Mum brooding and DOB snoozing on one leg, leaning against the wall. Suddenly, the Mrs. sat up very straight and looked right into the camera with what could only be described as amazement and then stood up to reveal a tiny naked scrap of life bobbling his head this way and his wings the other. He had already been out of the shell a few minutes because when she stood up, I could see the pieces behind her, but her manner indicated that she wasn't used to things squirming around under her.
At first I was terrified that she would eat him each time she used her sharp bill to gently gather him back close to her. I struggle not to anthropomorphosize animals. I'd rather liken the things humans do to animal behaviour, good and bad. I wonder if the baby owl is worried that mom will eat him. I wonder if Colin worried when I used to take his whole little hand or foot into my mouth and make Yummy noises.
"Stigmata"
Well, it wasn't going to let me go until it was done. Sometimes I get that SYBIL feeling that someone else lives in here and gets to make art from time to time.
I have been haunting the Owl family waiting for the first eggs to hatch. Mrs. O has thoughtfully dragged the eggs closer to the camera in her zeal to keep them evenly warmed so I have been spending way too much time on the computer. Between egg rolling, I have done my annual website crawl through Marie Elkins astounding list of fiber artists. I have seen work that makes me want to do crazy things and I have gone back to read my Quilter's Prayer
We don't do any of the traditional Easter things in this household now that the boys are grown. I made a clutch of hardboiled eggs last weekend. Sick of eating them, I didn't bother making more just to color. Bought big chocolate bunnies for Jake and Nikki and made them promise to give me the eyes.
Then I spent the afternoon listening to baseball and working on the largest of my Uninformed Innards series..here's Unidentified Part #4 in progress.
The thing about sculptural work, I haven't figured how to photograph or display it what with all the angles.
All this talk on the QA list about hand-dyed versus commercial fabric and then seeing Leslie Riley's beautiful overdyed commercial fabric spurred me to get filthy once again. I have been dragging around this navy blue & cream fish print batik for ten years or more. If you look through my completed work, those fish keep popping up. I am much happier with it now. Dyeing is out of my system for a few weeks and at this rate, I predict that by the end of summer, my entire stash of store bought will have been overdyed with something.
This is the first round.
I overcrowded the mason jars so the soda ash didn't get full distribution causing some splotching and wash out. I picked the splotchiest, palest pieces out of the basket and overdyed them (there was leftover dye that I put in the refrigerator on the deck). This time I gave the pieces plenty of space both in the dye and plenty of soda ash. My camera refuses to see how vibrant these colors really are. Even the dark purple glows. What looks like a lame teal in the second photo is an intense leaf green.
Von has asked about using more dye and overdyeing. I say "yes & yes". The more research you do on dyeing, the more conflicting information you will find. My methods fall somewhere between Melody Johnson's Lazy Dyer and something gleaned from Paula Burch's thorough and technical compendium of information. There are so many variables that it hurts my head to keep deadly track of each one (except for safety concerns) and doing anything 100% by-the-book was never my style.
Total fatigue is causing me to let this crop batch properly before my color greed gets the best of me. Did something a little different this time. I tossed the water damp cloth with the dyes on the tabletop like so much salad or bread dough, then stuffed the color kin in the mason jars to stew awhile in the heat. I ran out of jars in pretty short order so there's a dozen gallon plastic baggies stuffed with fat colors too. After a few hours I went back and gave each bag and jar a good drench with soda ash sauce. I go out there and turn everything from time to time like Mrs.Owl with her eggs. Now, I'm going to try to forget it all until tomorrow afternoon.
