I fell asleep thinking about the fact that this "new" fabric that I brought home has almost no history unlike the vintage damasks that have taken over my studio in the past year. The label says that it's imported which means it's traveled further than I have but it hasn't lived anywhere or done anything, yet.
Fabrics that gets made into garments or other things of utility get to make some history but once we take fabric and make it part of art, things slow down too much. I'm half inclined to drag this piece around with me for a while. Lay it in the parking lot at work. Stuff it in the mailbox. Slam one end in under the trunk lid of my car and drive downtown at night dragging yardage behind me.
Colin and Voodoo helped me with these pictures.
I just went over to Judy Martin's blog and decided to add this last photo:
4 comments:
i love fabric ceremonies....
Laughed out loud at the last photo, Deb. Been there.
My belly dance teacher was trying to show me how to do something like this for a veil dance -- where you start the dance all covered up, as in your picture, and then, whee, fling the veil out and things really get rocking. Except -- on me, it was quite comical. I told her I've never before had a piece of fabric be so completely beyond my control.
yesyesyes, a fabric has to have history! fresh new fabric has known only machines...
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