connectors for flow

This one has been troubling me, the overall look of the thing (a good picture might have been nice) was disconnected, and scattered. Without flow. 

Pacing off, broken.

Gaps too large for mere lines to bridge. Worse than plot holes. Continental drifts of space.

Then I remembered the Orbs. Bubbles of color in cloth and stitch, echoing curves. Stepping stones.

Each one like a conversation with a character.

Who are you?

Who do you care about?

What do you want?

Can you live without it?

It's working. It will be a matter of choosing just the right colors and knowing when to quit. 

 

Storied scraps

 

Having the design wall cleared and available (previous post) is a big part of getting this room back to being a working studio. Finding stacks of UFOs is a strange side effect. What was I thinking? Not what I'm thinking now, for sure.

The winter morning light is as harsh as ever. The birthday sewing chair needs its seat refurbished. Or maybe it's my ass that needs work. Having a time limit for seating is not all bad. 

I won't complain about the weather here with friends losing their minds in the extremes. There are limits to what humans can get used to. Nothing like that happens when the weather is merely dull.

Some days just compel stitching. I'd forgotten about the late-day sun coming into the master bedroom. Only about an hour, but enough to wrap up the day.

Tuning