I don't know if stitching words on a pillow that will never leave your home means you owe someone something.
How close is it to singing in the shower?
So here, as visual, only fractions of the whole. It's my font and stitch that I'm keeping my fingers on. Remembering to loosen up a bit.
On cloth and on paper.
This project is taking on a life of its own. 
1 comment:
I've had James Taylor's Yellow and Rose in my head recently and your stitching echoes the lyrics ...
Oh, seeds of the universe ever endeavor to grow.
Tiny pieces of everything, into the water they go.
Everything changes for the strangers on the shore.
They are blue and green no more, they are yellow and rose.
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