Dreamflowers at home

She can't decide where she likes it best....

Thanks for this look Cathy! It's fun to see what other people do with my work. This is one of my batt-less summer weight flings

wardrobe wreck

I dashed off to work today and left my big cozy blue sweater at home. Sweaters in Georgia in June you say? Oh yes, if you work at a call center. A never acclimated northern girl, the cold doesn’t usually bother me but lately (could it be happening?) I am freezing by 9pm and falling asleep like they say you will do when you die of the cold lost in a snowstorm…
 
ANYHOW, with no minutes to spare, we wheeled up in front of the big box bargain store which was the only option on my drive to work. The skies opened up just before we pulled into the parking lot and the rain poured down so I dashed through the fat raindrops (I’m really going to need a sweater) knowing full well I would be hard put to find anything with long sleeves inside but I knew where I was going.

I bypassed the womens department because I remembered a gorgeous display of brightly flowered Hawaiian shirts in the mens department. There they were, a bit picked over but rioting on the rack with their flowers and colors and ON SALE!

I snatched up the first color that hollered the loudest, checked the size and ran for the self check out. It's a wonder I wasn't a shoplifting suspect. I was in and out of the store in 6 minutes. Just before Colin dropped me off I pulled the shirt from the bag to find this…I swear, I thought it was flowers like all the rest of them...

Shreds, scraps and glimpses.

Must of us who share the art slice of our lives by blogging use a set of fences and filters as we write because we are mindful that family and loved ones are regular readers, following our online adventures in the context of how they are connected with us in real life. All we reveal are scraps, shreds and coy glimpses of our lives. Deep, dark emotional secrets are rarely spewed out alongside eye-candy images of work's in progress or piles of stitched cloth.

And then there are the writers who share their lives and situations more openly, more bravely, to our delight if not for our entertainment. We follow. We come back, and we think we know and understand the writer. Sometimes personal struggles are hinted at obliquely but more often we can "tell" when someone is struggling with life by the missing posts - the stories untold, the sorrows too deep and personal to share.

Then there comes the time when the story teller simply ends the blog with a cryptic "goodbye". Those of us who work with cloth often rush to see what we can do to help mend the situation, after all we are menders, savers.

I hope that this impulse to fix things does not further dismay the one who has decided to withdraw and stop sharing their story which has turned sad and dark for the time being. I, and many others, hope that she can find her way back to sharing her life and her art sometime in the future. Ciao4now, True Stitches.

results

Everything got a brief natural rinse in a passing rain storm last night. I hand rinse everything through a series of three containers of cold water. This gives me a good idea of which pieces might be casting off dye. I fear the six "flour sacks" (which turned out to have labels stating "Made in Bangladesh") that I picked up at Goodwill, might have a synthetic component which will refuse the dye. All & all there was very little dye in bucket #3...a good sign.

The "hot" load, the reds with fuchsia, are in the washer by themselves right now. I don't predict hours of ironing - That crazy, I am not.

Many of these pieces were cut and dyed for project of my own. After I take first pick, some of these pieces will wind up in groups over at the shop. Eventually.


PS.    As predicted by the magic 3 bucket rinse, the wash loads caused almost no dye down the drain... everthing is nearly as luscious dry as it looked wet!!

Senses be Praised

"Heaven" by the Rolling Stones (Tattoo You)

Dyefest Day 2

I don't know why I was thinking that I needed to run out and use my coupons at Joann's to buy fabric. Short on containers, every single cup, bowl, bucket and the rest of the lunch bags got pressed into service hold all the cloth I had ready to dye.
There's everything here; supergauze, heavy canvas, sheeting, more of that embroidered tablecloth, the Berry Experiment, that Pimatex cotton, a bundle of contemporary flour sacks, and overdyeing a lot of vintage quilting cotton pastels.

Yes, it's quite exhausting. And now to see if Reduran really works...

jelly wonders

Jake & Missy went to the Chattanooga Aquarium last weekend and I loaned Jake my older digital camera without any time for any instructions. These pictures may not be perfect but still, they have their own wonder.

And some pictures you don't need to work hard for at all.

Anniversary Day 2 - Dyefest

All things pale and lifeless prepare to be reborn in a blaze of glory!

Hot & humid makes for a great, if short, day at the Lawrenceville Frankenstein Dyeworx.  I got a late jump on the day so spent the morning prepping the cloth and the work area. Then a long time spent mixing a new set of colors with almost too much to work with. New standards from A. and a flock of "old" bizarre colors from Linda like propeach and Chino that turned purple.

None of these went into the shake bottle by themselves so strange and new colors are batching. This is a swatch of monk's cloth. I'm too hot and tired to sneak a peek rinse so stay tuned.

All this time..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was 33 years ago today & tomorrow.We get to celebrate two days because the judge who came to our house to perform the ceremony discovered he was outside of his jurisdiction and had us meet him at town hall for a do-over very early the next morning....Happy memories ...and Happy Anniversary my darlin'

fresh starts and limitations

Without room or time for much else, the sketchbook has  been put to use. The basic notion is all I will hope to retain - my ideas on paper almost never make it to cloth but this one's soul has legs.

Anyone who buys my fabrics has to know that I keep the juiciest pieces for myself.  Rooting through the "mine" pile has me itching to get this one underway.



Since my adventure in day surgery my left shoulder has been grieving me in ways that make me think about just how in the hell they transferred my comatose self from the operating table to the the recovery area. It feels as if they just dragged me by my left arm which most probably just dislocated. Could I prove it? Hardly. Do I feel it constantly? Yes but it's getting better very slowly. Right now, it' s hard to do al the mundane things right handers leave to the left..the holding, the reaching. Every previously taken for granted movement has to be considered first for the "DONT DO THAT" quotient. This too shall pass.

farewell and adieu

 

Please forgive the over indulgence of eyecandy in this post.

Over the weekend, someone decided that Dreamflowers would look great over the rocking chair on her front porch which is just the sort of use I imagined for these light weight quilts. 

This morning was for the ritual of inspecting the thing for stray threads or cat hair, taking a few photos and being grateful that this labor of joy is getting off it's hangar in the closet and going out into the world. Graduation day! 

I made this one back when I was still working at the local Viking store tucked inside JoAnn's. Surrounded by sewing machines, among them, the Diamond, I sat hand appliqueing this piece. The job was really not for me. Right now, I'm inspired to start a new one. Slow cloth with a mission in mind.