Tuesday, October 25, 2011
This is something else.
A big box of vintage cloth arrived yesterday courtesy of my scout, Grace of the American West (who called her that? How appropriate). Colin helped me unfurl one last night and Jim estimated it to be 120" square. Shimmering.
As I sat and went through all the pieces this morning in the sunlight the stillness set in. What more could I do? What shades and hue? The hubris of my plans appalls me, yet the subversive witch cackles, rubs her paws together and daydreams in butternut and violet, storm gray and moss, blood orange and peaches.
If it wasn't for my GoodMan, I'd take the veil.