working art

My newest nephew enjoying the Monkey Tongues on his blankie.

coat project #2

 This coat repaving is going to be harder than I thought, not execution-wise. I love free-motion nail-downs. I get on a roll and have to guard against stitching my fingers in.  It's the color/design that is going to be hard to decide on.

I was plucking through my private stash, concentrating, really being critical and found a length of fringed black-fade-to-white linen that stopped me in my tracks.

 Should I go for the B&W graphics to accentuate the elegance of the cut or just go hog-wild with color and admit that I really like the idea of that Holy Elephant only I want to be the artist.

The plan is a great deal of ripping, cutting and pinning and rearranging before I even think of threading the machine.

the coat project

Have you ever tried on a coat or dress and the cut, fit and cloth were just so right that you had to smile? This sucker fits me like it was tailor made.

Then, you looked in the mirror and something about it  just so off. So wrong, but not so wrong that wishful thinking made you buy it anyway.

This garish embellishment runs the length of both sides of the front of the calf-length coat and spans the shoulders. I kinda look like the Maharaja's favorite elephant on a holy day.


I got it from the second-hand store for a pittance so, a rescue attempt began. Got out my handy stitch ripper and started to remove the acres of machine embroider. After an hour, I gave up and tossed the coat into the "be gone" corner of the closet.

A little while ago, I picked it up and tried it on again and got that same "Love Me" glow. Then it occurred to me that nothing would be lost if I tried paving over all this grotesquerie with my own cloth embellishing. The Janome is feeling feisty. I've been fondling my stash and know what I have to work with....what's to lose?

Progress pictures as we roll.................

small trials

Coming up for air after the worst head cold in memory. For forty-eight hours I was too sick to complain. Grateful to be upright and quasi-functional. I was so grateful for two full and productive days poolside last week  that it didn't matter that I was sneezing and sniffling until I sat down at the computer for the day job and realized that I couldn't talk or make sense of what I was seeing on the screen. Over-medicated much? None of it was making a dent in any of my symptoms and I discovered that more was not better. To bed.

It's past and over. So what used to take 24 hours now takes 48, a concession to age that I'm now willing to acknowledge.

This basket of delights is a fat baggie (picked with gloves and a mask!) that will be flying home tomorrow.

signs

Even here at the oasis there are signs.