TGIF - updated

Nothing terribly significant going on, just my over-reaction to the ordinary.

I think I may have found a solution to sending threads internationally. Time will tell.

This is just part of the process.

TODAY, 5/11 at 8pm est is the last chance to bid on Revisions. Right now at a mere 310$ (last time I checked) 
Pounce on it  here

Revisions getting ready to fly

Revisions  44x29    2019

If you are interested in owning this piece, please go to the Writer Unboxed website and bid on it.


I finished it just about the same time that I finished (ha!) writing Prophets Tango so I decided I wanted to do something to give back to the organization that has been so instrumental in my progress as a writer. 

You don't have to be a member to bid. Your money will go towards one of this year's scholarship packages.

If you get lucky and bold, you'll be able to say that you own a piece of art done by a famous novelist back when she was still stitching her life together with pieces of thread and cloth.

Remember this? I'll never forget the feeling. 

If you have any questions about the work or the bidding please email me. 

leaps and bounds

You really don't forget how to ride a bicycle or hand code HTML. For the first time since 2012, I think, I've renovated my

  main website. 

It was a lot less painful than I thought it would be.

The reason for this dive off a cyber cliff is exciting, but I'll keep it under my hat for another 12 hours.

The site is necessarily spare for the moment and will be fluxing like crazy in the coming weeks and months.

Some eye candy for today. It was nice to sit outside in the sun for a few hours but I have to rethink that plastic Adirondack chairs. Not great for stitching.

a napping house

I could digitally remove all the crud from the carpet, but as I'm too lazy to vacuum.....

This is a section of cotton bed ruffle that I've (insanely) decided to pick all the seams out of. Really good, French seams. I do a few inches and have to set it aside.

Sweetie thinks it's all for her entertainment.

The weather has swung between noisy thunderstorms and steamy sun blazing about four times today. Napping seems the best way to deal with it.



Midday, there was mayhem right outside the front door. Colin captured this. The hawk was undeterred and returned to his good hunting place within the hour. I sincerely hope that is one of the rats that has been plaguing my kitchen and I'm very glad I did not resort to poison.

illuminating

speak in the language of darkness.

hands and fingers, know them and each other.

By the night ways, mouths and tongues, discover the grain and strength.

By heart, what to clutch for comfort and who to cling to in certainty.

Beltane fruits

I'd forgotten how the strong serendipity factor in my technique pays off in miracles.

To be sure, there's plenty of mud, but even now they are undergoing further treatment, some ghosting.

I'm setting aside a few pieces, but a lot of this is headed for the scrap hamper. You'll see bits and pieces here.

Beltane ripened

The veil is thin.

At the post office, there was a dish of candy out on the counter. Shocking in that this post office rarely even has functioning air conditioning. There were two pieces of my mother's favorite candies. I took them both.
                         
 When I got home, the first of the peonies were blooming. The ones I brought from New York some thirty years ago.


And these were rioting out on the work table.

I'm supposed to be working on dialogue for the living, but the ghosts are having their say, so I'll be still and listen a while.

some cloth

It's hot and muggy here. I rounded up an armload of lackluster cloth and marched them down to the dye deck.

A half-dozen technicolor lumps are basking in the sun, soaking up the color with the heat. I wish it would rain so I could leave them to their own devices, but I'll be doing the wash-out tonight. Then we'll see if there was any kick left in those dyes.

Conversations

It's what happens between thread, the needle, and the cloth.

Somehow, I'm not a part of this conversation. It seems to happen while I'm not paying attention. My mind is elsewhere, on other conversations.

GOT spoiler alert...

...but really, if you're not watching, why? I screamed. I cried, I covered my eyes and the cat ran out of the room disgusted with me.

It's such great theater. Reminds me of old school soap operas, although those writers never planned endings. This one is going to break my heart.

I don't watch much TV.  Didn't start watching this one until early last year. I'm always late to catch the wave. So glad I did for this one.

the dirty thread boogie

I want to thank everyone who ordered threads this weekend. There are a few more sets to post, then there will be a week or so before I can set up the next round.

In a world where the phrases "hand-crafted" and "artisanal" get tossed around pretty fast and loose, I can assure you that those expressions really do apply to Dirty Thread making. It may be messy and time-consuming, but I think it's worth the trouble.

As you can see, I got mine.

ghosts

As I pack up orders for thread and scraps, I have to restrain myself from holding things back on the off chance I might someday do something with them.

The river basket is full of bits and pieces of possibility - anything more would be a distraction.

After a busy morning of chores and errands, I picked this new piece up for a timed hour of stitching before my nap.

The trees stir in the warm air and confederate jasmine is as strong and effective as marijuana.

getting it done

I'm on my way to the post office. If you've ordered anything to date,  it's on the way!! Have a great weekend. I got stuff to do.

some days off...

  ...are full of delight. Spent the morning in a very satisfying meeting with my word wizard.

Then, a little retail therapy on the cheap at Goodwill.

Yesterday, it was the after school book fair where it was easy to read someone's heart's delight. What started out as a baby cat speaking it's first word (Hi!), became a wand/scanner gathering mystery sounds in the yard.

this is manifesting now.

More new threads

 they are all out there basking in the Sun waiting for the winder to come home and see to them.

.

happy Friday!

I  put the finishing touches on this today. I worked on this through several episodes of True Detective and kept sticking myself. Such compelling acting!

If the sun comes around tomorrow, I'll take some better pictures and post it for sale in the gallery.

That out of the way, I started auditioning pieces for another small thing to clutch and stab when the need arises.

Physical therapy is making a difference in my shoulder. On a happy note, Charlie has declared himself no longer afraid of heavy weather. Hallelujia.

the goods

I think this will work. Directions at the end of the post.

The catchers.

First "table moppers" of the season. We are having a fine steady spring rain. The light is even green.
 For the uninitiated, I spread cotton cloth underneath the cards of thread to catch the excess dye. Nothing gets wasted.
I usually use the same cloths throughout the season and they tend to get kind of muddy.
 This lot might get retired early depending on how they look after a good wash and dry.

ps - we are under a tornado warning right now. spooky.

First fruits

A few were ready. You can see that the color transitions are pretty sharp. I've learned how to control that.

For a while, I've been thinking about writing a book on how to make your own dirty threads, but it seemed like a lot of trouble for four or five pages.

With that in mind this time, I made (mental) notes of all the yes/no, how much/how long, etc. decisions and the outcomes or why of each choice along the way.   Expressing things that have become intuitive is important when one is attempting to teach. And sometimes I did not have any answers for the questions I posed.

 For now, I'll stay a maker.

They are here.

Season 1st

I didn't think the dyefest would get off the ground today. Myriad foolish impediments that had to be dealt with one by one. Stupid stuff. Wrong gloves? Deal. Salt from last year clumpy? Run it through the blender. Forgot to buy small containers for dyestock? Switch to baggies.  Murphy's law was riding high. I got higher and it looks like the first batch of Dirty Threads from the Frankenstein Dyeworx of Lawrenceville is going to be a show stopper! You should see the three table moppers!

Tomorrow. Now I'm going to relax and come up with a suitable name for this lot. I never counted them. Sixty or seventy?

pre-dawn post script. I left them all over the kitchen table and counter, stacked house of cards style, each holding its neighbor up. They are 99% dry.  A few hours of sun and I'll be able to start my favorite compulsive activity- winding them off the dye cards onto the little cardboard bobbing. Feeling the smoothness of the cotton slip through my fingers. Watching as the color character of each one reveals itself in the sunlight. 

Busted wing - update

Looks like vintage chintz but it's my messy kitchen table.

What I should be doing is winding spindles of dmc cotton to transform into dirty threads, but it's not going well.

I had a simple, speedy process in place. The stock arrived. I set everything in position only to realize that, due to the stupid left shoulder injury, I just cannot.

Had the MRI and met with the surgeon. A labrum tear and pieces of floating junk that have formed benign cysts big enough to interfere with movement and cause pain and weakness.

Before any surgery, there will be physical therapy. I will consult with that person to find a way to incorporate dirty thread production into the PT.

The trick? Teach Lefty to do Righty's thing. Lefty is a quick study while Righty is slow to pick it up. Who da thunk it?

finishing

Finishing.

This backing fabric has been waiting ten years or more for being called to active duty.

Once this part is done, I'll be faced with the struggle of orientation, although I may just leave that to the new owner when the time comes.

I'm so ready to start everything new. New cloth, new stories, new me.

Revisions

.

comic book production continued

I was informed that it's not a scrapbook because he's putting words in it too. And that the magazines we cannibalized the other day were pretty picked over. Did I have any others? 

A stack on a shelf in the studio closet waiting to shuffle their way off to the trash. SAQA journals, etc. 

I'm flipping through the pages looking for suitable pages to tear out - easier for new scissor users that way - and something looks familiar.

consequences

A bad day at school evolved into
a tough, overnight bout of stomach upset.

It's so hard to decide how to balance
discipline with coddling.

I don't remember parenting being so hard, then, at the time, I had nothing else to do.

He grows more beautiful as time passes. Still averse to having his picture taken, this one stolen while he was consoling himself and fighting sleep.

Spring break starts Friday.

spring came in on a storm

and a bit earlier in the other direction...

revisions

Re. Visions.

on all the levels I can think of 'revisions' is the new name for this piece.

It's all about changes happening in my art, my writing, my life. Everything happening at the same time sounds like chaos.
It's not.
It's much more like a flow. Pieces have to be considered, tried out and accepted or rejected. Fails to build on. Successes that nourish progress. In all things, balance and timing.

spring cold

Not dropped off the face of the world; it just feels that way.


This deep into the school year and I finally caught a case of Pre-K cooties from my little assistant. I think the remedies laid me lower than the actual cold - I just didn't care as much.

It's a good thing that I can (mostly) do the day job in my sleep. Once or twice last night, I picked up a call, listened to what the person wanted and had no idea what they were talking about. In English. 

There are other things that I'm supposed to be doing but the brain is off wandering on cold meds. Stitching in a straight line is as much as I can manage right now.

not hungover

On Saturday, March 9, 2019, I typed ~fini~ and sent it off to a professional for an overview.

It was started, give or take, in the spring of 2014 and didn't get a title, a name until a long time after that.

For no other reason, I feel hungover.

ps. just got off the phone with a very talented advisor.  I may have the words corralled for the moment, but we are a long way from home (published). This was fully expected and I'm fine with it. More learning, more adventures lie ahead.

Progress

At least I can hold the hoops now.

the fix

There. That's better. Some color, even if I'm a little puffy around the edges from too much sleep.

I feel a little more like me evil self today. Yesterday, I finally saw the doctor about my left shoulder. Xrays said no bone fragments or arthritis.

 Let her stick an enormous needle full of voodoo juice in the joint and let me have the full jolt. There will be an MRI to see the extent of the damage and then we'll talk about what's possible, repair-wise.