I did a little stitching when no one was looking. This light chambray shirt had a corporate logo over the breast pocket that just had to go.
Nothing gets done anymore without my assistant.
Yesterday would have been our 39th wedding anniversary I blogged about it here.
and today our 39th legal anniversary. We had to do it twice because the judge screwed up and it was always nice to have two chances to celebrate on the times that life got in the way.
What does it take to have a long and happy marriage?
A bunch of mothers, aunties and grammas doing the tarantella in the back yard.
And I was afraid that they were going to be too dark....spooling these onto those cute little DMC cardboard thingies while I work tonight. 13 yards each.
I have at least a dozen large pieces dating back to 2007 that just don't do it for me anymore. I can clearly remember being less than enthralled with the trend of throwing the kitchen sink onto every piece. A day didn't go by without one faction or another gushing about the Latest Thing with regards to embellishment which lead to discussions on how best to hang a piece freighted with beads, buttons, paint, whatever.
New to dyeing my own and whole cloth work, I was besotted with color and clearly remember being aggravated that I somehow had to have three layers and incorporate stitching if I wanted to be "in the club". Happy to say I never got in.
Still many of these pieces feel unfinished. Experiments in transformation are underway.
No time for much else. These and another couple dozen will be dyed this weekend. Each one 13 yds of six-strand DMC floss.
Colors? I won't know until the sun rises on Saturday. I also plan on working some larger pieces of linen and damask in the creeping darkness technique that I was experimenting with two weekends ago.
I spend most of what little free time I have writing, but I had a big bucket of emotional cold water tossed over my head last weekend.
There had been plans to give up both the studio, office and upstairs bath to a renter. I really thought I could do this, but when the preliminary meet with a person who would be anyone's ideal tenant was over, I sat in the studio at my sewing machine for a few minutes looking around, trying to decide what could be stored where and what would be parted with. Then I broke down in tears with emotions that reached far, wide and deep.
It took me a while to realize that I just couldn't take another square inch of loss in my life. So, I cannot afford to let this space, these materials, and most importantly, this practice languish and be wasted. I have to try harder.
It's not like riding a bike at all.
