gratitude

Before anything else today (except coffee) a gracious "Thank You" for a thoughtful and perceptive review from across the Big Pond. John Hopper at The Textile Blog tripped over my work in cyberspace, liked what he saw, and offers a different perspective on my art than I am accustomed to receiving. He's right that Fiber art can be a no-person's land to work in sometimes.

One hardly knows how to act except, after the smile and the pause, to get back to work.

If it were not for Elaine at Red Thread Studio and Morna of Bittersweet,
I might never have read this article, so more thanks to both of them for having a wider  worldview than I do.

I spent the evening making a beach on the Caribbean in response  to the miserable weather that has been hanging around Atlanta for more than a week with no relief in sight. If anyone in the media mentions the word drought I promise to boycott their advertisers. I nearly sewed my fingers together as the Braves closing pitching nearly blew a win over the Phillies. Thanks for the fibrillations, fellas.

The woods turn nasty

Some time in the night this huge tree came down from the woods. The deck stairs and railing are toast but miraculously, the pool is intact. As big a mess as it looks, the water level is unchanged.  Looks like my float and chair have had it too. Firewood anyone?    This weather has an odd  change of season feel to it  with a steady driving rain and thunder that sounds more like the Hudson Valley than the Piedmont of Georgia, deep and far away.

Meanwhile, I'm off for the first time in nine days and I'm holed up in the studio playing with a little Caribbean fun - some of the leftovers from that last kids quilt just seemed so right together.

                                                    

saved, mostly

For the most part, these are vastly better. The hand on a lot of these fabrics is very soft, and the colors as a group are very companionable. I feel some bedwork coming on. Something to keep someone warm in the coming cold months.

Working at the computer has become a difficult operation. Just lately, Voodoo has insisted on sitting on my lap (or the keyboard even) and when I am working in the studio he will get between me and the machine.  Jinx is on me any other time and place in the house, most notably as I sleep - I am merely a soft, warm perch.                                                                     It makes me sad that because of these cat politics Karma has become almost a full time outdoor cat at a time in her life when I thought she would be wanting comfort. Maybe when fall sets in for real....

energized

I have an exciting creative opportunity looming on the 23rd and in preparation, I thought it would smart to dig around in the studio. There's been a pile of horrors in the corner by the door for awhile now gathering cat hair and crud.

Part of my supply list includes bringing a freshly mixed batch of dyes so I decided that an overdye fest was in order. Kill two birds with one dip - fix these tragedies and finish off the old dyes.

Anyone who gets terrific results when they dye their own fabric might not share with you the horrors of FABRICS GONE WRONG but here  you have it. Even table moppers shine when held up with this bunch.  The upside is that, because I have to go to work this afternoon, these pieces will have a day to soak, absorb and transform.

dreadlines

I've been getting emails reminding me of deadlines and others tipping me off to opportunities that I should not miss so I waded into the studio yesterday and
began taking a look at what's been accomplished in the past months and years.

Not long ago I pulled rolls of finished quilts off the shelves to look for a certain one that someone wanted to see in person so there's a pile of work halfway up the design wall. One by one I took them into the spare room to inspect for lint and cat hair and guess what - this is some Hot Shit if I do say so myself.

 

It's easy to get bored with pieces when you are only looking at digital images on a screen but live and in person these pieces still speak to me in loud and joyous voices. In my small, dark spare room, it's like being in a room full of shouting lunatics!  Now it's time I did the hard work of getting them seen somehow, somewhere. I know my work is strong and not everyone's cup of tea but somewhere out there a wall is waiting, a room is waiting to be lit up. All I have to do is find the room.