Friday fringes

I don't know the Ens, but on closer inspection, it looks like they subbed out their monograms to the lowest bidder. Then again, I just pulled this tablecloth out of a hot wash/dry cycle. 

A raft of damask cutters (items stained or damaged) popped up on eBay and I was lucky enough to be first in line to grab them. They were yellowed, stained, and holey- just the way I like them.

  According to the voodoo bullshitters at weather-maybe.maybenot.com next Wednesday looks like a great day to get these into the dyes.

I have some experiments planned. 

I put up a few more gangs of dirty threads in the store but I won't be shipping anything until later next week. 

Post wash, they are like so much vanilla ice cream or cool whip. I plan on ironing this lot to bring out the iridescence once the color comes to roost. Photographing said iridescence will be another story.

Right now, I have to do laundry and pack!

 

I watched "The Crown" last year and came to a better understanding of Queen Elizabeth. Like many people, I'd never given a thought to the fact that she was a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mother in a hugely complicated family all the while living with the demands and constraints of being a monarch in a world that has been anxious to shed monarchies. 

May she rest in peace after a long, hard job, well done. 

The double rainbow over Buckingham Palace was sublime.

                        Then this moved me to tears.

Ennui...

 

I have a pretty severe case of it. 

After so many years of having my schedule dictated for me, reallocating those weekly forty hours is challenging and I'm not up to any challenges so there's been a lot of listless time-wasting.  

My grandmother would have made me clean the parakeet's cage with a toothbrush. While the vicious little bugger was in it. 

Knowing why is something, anyway.  I'm having another back procedure tomorrow and will see about some physical therapy that is NOT in a public pool. I'm having some annoying breathing issues that feel like long covid and the last thing I want to do is spend an hour in a chlorinated atmosphere. 

Thank you for this, Liz. It was in my stack of "I'm gonna be bookmark any day now".  It reminded me of something important beyond the obvious. 

When I'm writing into a brick wall and getting nowhere, a neat trick is to write a scene for another character. Up to now, I've neglected the ghosts, Hope and Sam. They have a lot to say and hands to play in the sequel I'm developing. 

This was a big outing for me on Saturday. We took books to the little free library in the park where I used to walk and write. I managed 1200 steps and Charlie couldn't resist a last swipe at summer silliness.

It's a good thing I have him to remind me of simple joys.

A big week

 

I take this picture to be a good omen. A sense of community that I have missed while I was putting in forty hours a week with people I never saw or got to know.

This is the resident cat posse. Center on the mat, the youngster, Milly. Colin's Christmas rescue. She's a gonif and we are already having to restrict her caloric intake. No more basketball-sized cats in this family. It's really not good for them. 

On the left, Her Dowager Highness, Sweetie. You all know her. I indulge and spoil her. The two of us feeling the weight of life and years, arthritic and lazy.

Center on the steps, Young Thug, Bailey, the lithe fur snake who will interrupt his napping to rush onto my lap with the urgency of a child needing to be soothed after a nightmare. Sixty seconds of head scratching and poof, he's gone, back to his cat business.

Last, but not least, Lady Salem, she of the gorgeous graphics,  is still a bit troubled by Milly, the young interloper. Salem guards me jealously at night treating my hands like her long-lost kittens - licking them clean and moving them with a nip.

I am owned.

I have a few daily duties. I am honored to have breakfast with Charlie. He reads to me before and after school daily. Improving in leaps and bounds, he's found a hero writer in Dav Pilkey, author of the brilliant Dog Man Series. This, from "Dog Man: Mothering Heights"

Every story is chock full of action but sewn together by scenes like this. 

There were seven words or phrases here that prompted spirited discussions. The triple pov endings of this one made me cry, but I'm an easy mark.

He is perfecting his delivery for maximum Nana impact. 

There was a delightful adults-only day that included swimming in a still warm salt-water pool, food, drinks and a Braves game on the radio. Late that day, there was a phone call from the workplace. A wellness call, she described it. Thoughtful, if proforma. 

The next morning, I called and put them out of their misery. Who knew there was something called "off-boarding"?  The deal is done. I am free. 

The daily path is pretty much up to me and the calendar is already booking up. Today, I'll be driving to the gallery to fetch home the pieces that didn't sell.

Dirty Threads

 

That didn't take long, thank you all. 

I still have plenty, but I haven't had the time to get more sets posted. More tomorrow.

Up to now, I was going to document a dyefest in order to write a DIY, but that's just more procrastination bullshit. Something I am trying to flush from my thought process.

Step One. 

Open a blank page....

the switch flipped

 

I knew it the minute the float turned me in this direction, Summer left without even saying goodbye. The water loses a degree or two each day and within minutes of this moment, I was scrambling to get out before the thunderstorm hit.

Tomorrow I will be disconnecting the day job equipment and getting it out of my space for good.  It can stage down in the living room until they let me know where they want it sent. Eighteen cubic feet all told. Bailey will be upset, but that office chair is going too. More space! 

I don't quite know what to do with myself yet.

They do. 

Really, so do I.  Some travel plans are afoot.

Lots of pesky admin stuff to get out of the way.

Stories are spinning up, taking hold.

August 18, any year.

 

August 18 has always been an auspicious day for me, on many occasions and for many reasons. 

Laugh out loud times, tears in my eyes times, and the sound of that sweet inner bell saying "Do it!"

So many memorable 8/18s, that at some point in the middle of Summer's last laugh, I always take notice, connect the dots and remember them.

No random pull for me today. I picked all of these for myself. Like the day.

I have walked away from the day job. No regrets. For thirteen years it has both sustained and confounded me. I'm grateful that it was never more than a way to make money and now, time matters more than money. Roll on. 

under the Sturgeon Moon

Yesterday was the best weather for dyeing that I've had for years. Hot enough to get the colors reacting, but not so hot that I was uncomfortable and therefore NOT rushed.  

I took my time making up the colors while I had my coffee. Forgot all about what I needed in the stash, but instincts drew me to warm colors and stayed my hand when I picked up Raven.

My only regret is that I didn't have more cuts of this linen ready to carry and wrap groups of thread. Shortfall?  I threw the threads right down on the deck boards same as I do with cloth bundles. 

Butterscotch, Sun Gold and Lemon had a field day. Avocado came out for the first time in many years. Prochem has improved it immensely. Bright where it used to be murky. Plays well with others too.

An even better day coming up.  I'll get these washed and laid out to dry in time for a decent pool day. Yesterday, I actually got cold. By the time I hit the water, clouds had moved in and the water is still a little colder from all the rain we had during the week.

It's that time of the year when I take note of each swim knowing that good water days are numbered. 

A peek at the results. I washed and rinsed these an hour ago. Hope the cloth stays as intense as the threads seem to be.

Conjuring colors

 

I shot this through the sunroof the other day. It was quickly followed by a carwash thunderstorm. 

Today is supposed to be glorious, with no rain in sight. I'm about to drag my fingernails over a bar of soap and start cooking up the colors for a dyefest. 

Updates as the day goes on. 

Roadkill

 Pulled this one out of the trunk of my car. It was in the FREE ART bag, destined to be left behind on a park bench some sunny day. 

I was so caught up and in love with some of the elements that I overlooked how hideous the background is until I stepped back and took a hard look.

I spent some time changing the orientation by 90 degrees. That required the sleeve to be removed and relocated. The original stitching on that sleeve looked like I sent it out for the nuns to work on. Took an hour just to cut and pick all the stitches. 

Now I have to decide what I'm going to do about the background. The fabrics are very "touchy", that is, a cotton/rayon blend designed to soak up spills. Anything liquid applied is going to travel uncontrollably. 

I can't use soy wax to mask and protect the central elements (that pink also needs help) because of the silk satin and more of that thirsty cotton/rayon.

It might come down to surgery and if the patient survives, a new name. Ideas are welcome. It's on a back burner for now.

Mixing in the world

 

Debra Steinmann

     

As soon as I found out that five of my pieces would be included in "The Material is the Message" I resolved that I would not be attending the opening. The list of reasons was long and boring. Then I remembered. 

This is your new life. Live it. 

I had no "nice" clothes. Turned them all back to Goodwill. Comfort was key. My favorite Led Zip t-shirt and khaki clamdiggers were clean and presentable. Hair, clean and bunned up. Purple cane ready to rock. 

I drove into the heart of Atlanta under a raging thunderstorm--the order of every afternoon these days-- and let the phone talk me through the maze Inside the Perimeter to my friend's home. Left my car and rode with her because parking would be limited.

Even though we were prompt, the place was buzzing with people. So many people. We all seemed dazzled to be out.  A reporter from some local cultural media outlet interviewed me. She was probably sorry she picked me. Diarrhea of the mouth and all. Pictures even.

I met so many nice people. Got to see some great textile work and meet the makers. (One by one I will match the makers to the work and update this page.)

Lisa Rich and Clare Butler

Then someone nudged me, gestured at Cephalopod, and said, "Look!"  

Hell yeah, I squealed with delight!