October..

...is my birth month and my favorite. The entire month can span all  the seasons. I can recall swimming on my birthday and trudging through six inches of snow on Halloween, of course that was in New York.








The trouble with going through one's stash for things to sell is constantly running into exquisite little chunks of fabric that you want to hoard for


yourself, or worse, sit right down and start  working with when so many other things are pressing, or need pressing.

I am really looking forward to packing my river grass basket with scraps and needles and thread and sitting in the October sunshine for two days just stitching and considering the full Moon.

  I may pretend I'm just tent sitting for the artist who just stepped away for a minute.

an (over) reaction...

...to fatigue and frustration, but I'm going to like working with it. It's half a vintage queen-sized percale sheet in a (Heavy!) weight that is no longer available.

I love dyeing but hate doing it under time constraints and for vending purposes. The scarves came out okay, fashion forward I suppose. Only time and the venue will tell. Still would have preferred the silk velvet to the rayon but that was a screw-up that there was no time to undo.

I've been ironing since dawn. Now it's time to start piling up the UFOs that I'm taking along. It's looking like I may have more UFOs that FOs. Oh, damn, well. Here's to a fun day working the street with the rest of the Art Whores!

dress rehearsal (in my mind)

I have two whole days to go from
chaos to commerce. yawn.

good grief!

Guess I don't have to worry about dinner tonight.

Ennui lurks

Even before my studio dye day with Elizabeth, Terri and Cleo, I've been rolling around in the clutches of  a nasty case of  Arteest's Ennui.

Yeah, I had to look it up to be sure but it's  "a general lack of interest, boredom or depression. It may also refer to oppressive boredom - a state of being rather than a passing mood. "

I was hoping that an art day out would put me back on the rails but good, instructive company over fibers, dye and lunch didn't help. My fabric results rather reflected my attitude - lackluster and washed out except for this vintage table runner doctored here with inks & alcohol. The rest await another dye try.

In the house I grew up in about the only sin that got immediate retribution was being fool enough to act as if or actually say that you were bored. My parents worked too hard raising four kids to brook any of that nonsense. Heinous chores were instantly handed out.

Just when I am contemplating why I am fooling with fabric and making prune faces over the fact that the zing has gone out of making art, the nods and opportunities come tripping over themselves and my doorstep.

Elements deadline must to be met on Sunday!  Front runner must go.

I need to re-up my SAQA membership right quick so I can study up on Commissions. There's one beckoning.  And one other small jewel from the dyeday: