the cloth at work

I love seeing what other people do with or feel about the cloth I send them.

The reason I parted with it in the first place was because it had no place in my imagination (at the moment I packaged it up) and my hope was that someone else would be sparked by it.

Grace does it every day. Her photos alone are creative inspiration for me.

idling

My dye project is going to have to wait until late Sunday, unless the new writer's group gets cancelled this coming Saturday. We are under the weather armageddon threat here in GA, meaning a few flakes might put in an appearance.
I' keep busy, thanks.

I made the rash mistake of clicking on these in an ad somewhere on the web and now they pop up no matter what web page I go to. Really? Maybe?

I love the sexy-cool of Converse but the last time I tried on a pair and walked around the store for a minute, my feet felt like they had been beaten with lead pipes. The new Chuck Taylor II promises to have remedied that..I'll have to have another walk about before I commit,

fish mess

Well, the commercial (RIT) dye remover did it's thing. This is pretty much how I remember the cloth. No wonder I dyed it. It's as uninspiring as the pink was garish.

My next move? I'm going to cut out a couple of clumps of fish and overdye them separately. Time for a kitchen table dye fest now that I have heat in the house.

I'm not going to think about the colors until I open the box of dyes, but a strong amber comes to mind. That would hopefully cast golden fish in water as murky and green as my swimming pool is right now.

Snail's pace here.

Electronically (mis)guided dreams

This piece of cloth turned up in the stash churn the other morning. You know, stash churn, like how you are supposed to take a pitchfork to the compost heap?

Anyway, this piece of commercial batik has been in my life since I don't know when. It's got a supple, soft hand. I know it would be wonderful to applique with - all those tiny, needle turned stitches.  I know there are one or two of those pink fish on the very first not-quilt I ever made. I have doled them out like bits of treasure, but the  pink on navy really bothers me.

Back in the day, I had a long, halter top dress made from cloth just like it, a different print. Gold on blue. That hippy, India thing. The only thing holding the girls in place were two half inch straps of the same cloth that tied behind my neck. There was some cloth that saw some action.

So while I was handling this cloth yesterday, I was listening to some sample sound from BrainFM, no affiliation just yet.  Still just listening to the soothing electronica.

It was a "focus" segment and I'm just holding this cloth, recognizing for the first time that the fish were arranged head and tail as Pisces. Thought about my long ago dress. How I could have parted with that cloth when it was done as a garment and I did wear it to death.

 Last night I dreamed that I cut all the fish out of this cloth and re-arranged them, appliqueing them in various groups and files, some chasing colorful bugs or worms, some belly up with black Xs over their eyes...all kinds of activities. An enormous amount of work going into this imaginary Fish Blanket. Crazy. Still, my hand itches to pick up the scissors.

I'll have to overdye them first.

sunday stitch

Sunday is improving. Over the past two years, it's been a difficult day to be alone if I didn't have visiting planned.

I went to my first meeting with a new writing group yesterday and it was just what I've been looking for.

Now a chunk of Sunday will have to be given over to Saturday housework, the stuff I let languish all the rest of the week. A day for projects, catching up and finishing. I need to get back to having books on CD while I work.

I cleared the dancing table in the studio enough to fire up the Janome and do some long promised mending. From there it was a short hop to the river basket to see what was waiting for my hands.
What am I going to do when Downton Abbey is over?