Blue Wave wrap-up

Sometimes a piece just takes you over. Makes demands.

You don't fall in love with it. It never charms you. Every moment you handle it there's a risk of it getting tossed into the UFO box or worse.

Back somewhere around Y2K, one of the first pieces I ever sold, Parking Magic, came within minutes of getting fed into an industrial shredder at AT&T where I was working because I was sick of fooling with it.

The ones you fall in love with can become problematic. I've got too many of those and need to adjust my attitude. Clean house. Update the gallery and get things gone.

This one was wise to stop talking to me a while ago. We got along well enough to reach a satisfactory conclusion. I backed it with that lovely vintage silk jacquard and even stitched it with the last of Jude's silk/cotton thread. The few yards that didn't get cat damaged or dyed.

All that's left for Blue Wave is to add my mark, like the one below.  Title, year, etc. I'll wait to attach it until it's sold because I'm going to let the new owner choose which orientation they prefer. I can't decide.

And that new owner business? Stand by for an announcement.

backlit

 

the shift is on

 

An unexpected week away from daily care, plus a few days of heavy rain, and this is what Fall looks like in Georgia. 

If the sun is strong enough and I have the time, I'll get into the soup and see if I can set things blue one last time. It's mostly manual labor and a little kitchen table chemistry, pH balancing, etc. I'm holding onto summer as long as I can amid a degree of personal chaos.

The reason for the chaos? COVID, of course. Charlie's school resumed in-person sessions last Wednesday and the kids were sent home from school on Monday due to someone they had contact with turning up positive. So, back to virtual school. 

They were all testy the first day back. Charlie gotten a taste of the real thing and had made a friend. Now we are back to square one. Everyone remains well.

That's me with the bat on her head trying to keep the class in line. As if. 

That reference to "One Last Time"? We've started watching "Hamilton" together in bits and pieces. Much of it way beyond him getting.

 He loved King George and the cabinet meeting battle between Jefferson and Hamilton. These kids understand the mic drop! 

He was enjoying the music and the stage work, but he's always interested in the motivations of the characters. "Are they fighting? What was the fight about? What's HIS problem?" and "That's not George Washington!" 

I paused it and set up the scene for him with a brief recap on the American Revolution. No easy task to boil down, I gave explanations about what was happening in this scene. George Washington's farewell.  He was intensely focused on the actors faces and gestures. 

At the end of Christopher Jackson's astonishing performance Charlie was standing within a foot of the giant screen. He zeroed in on the catch in Jackson's voice like a shark to blood. "He's crying!' He turned to me for an explanation and caught me in middle of the same complex set of feelings that can only be expressed through tears. 

"Nana. Why are you all crying? He was anxious, solicitous, clutching my arm, trying to perceive my pain. I could only say, "It's feeling all feelings at the same time. Happiness, sadness and others all at once. I'm okay. Don't worry. Happiness wins this one." 

I lied, sort of. I wonder if he will catch me in that lie someday? I also reminded him that the star of the show, Alexander Hamilton, was a writer.