Every time I post an update on this piece, this series, it has a new name.
What's up with that RightBrain?
And when, exactly, is enough? I am still inclined to pick it up and settle in with the sewing basket and work on it for nine innings. I am running out of that iridescent sheer stuff and need more as it's finally starting to look like fascia. Ever attend a butchering?
Spankin' stuff, fascia.
"YEEEAHSSSSS!" as the sports announcers are fond of bellowing. I fixed Big J thanks to at least a dozen knowledgeable and generous people from the Quilt Art mailing list. Evidence to the right.
I was in a perfect funk yesterday thinking I was going to have to haul that bugger 45 minutes into Tucker and leave it there for a week or more and then have to shell out who knows how much of an idiot's gouging which I would have richly deserved for not trying to help myself.
Thank you all.
After a great start this morning (see previous post) and some piddling around (this postcard) my Janome decided to derail my creative afternoon. After about an hour of frustration, I took out the old Kenmore only to find her cranky and fussy, refusing to deal with bottom line bobbin thread and hating the fabric I was trying to work with.
Basta! I'm going to finish watching the ball game.
I decided to stop being intimidated by those hand dyed antique fabric. At first I thought I might use them to wash my car first but didn't want to risk losing any brightness. Then I saw the scissors laying there and the evil sister inside took over.It's in the wash right now, getting hairy.
