Season 1st

I didn't think the dyefest would get off the ground today. Myriad foolish impediments that had to be dealt with one by one. Stupid stuff. Wrong gloves? Deal. Salt from last year clumpy? Run it through the blender. Forgot to buy small containers for dyestock? Switch to baggies.  Murphy's law was riding high. I got higher and it looks like the first batch of Dirty Threads from the Frankenstein Dyeworx of Lawrenceville is going to be a show stopper! You should see the three table moppers!

Tomorrow. Now I'm going to relax and come up with a suitable name for this lot. I never counted them. Sixty or seventy?

pre-dawn post script. I left them all over the kitchen table and counter, stacked house of cards style, each holding its neighbor up. They are 99% dry.  A few hours of sun and I'll be able to start my favorite compulsive activity- winding them off the dye cards onto the little cardboard bobbing. Feeling the smoothness of the cotton slip through my fingers. Watching as the color character of each one reveals itself in the sunlight. 

Busted wing - update

Looks like vintage chintz but it's my messy kitchen table.

What I should be doing is winding spindles of dmc cotton to transform into dirty threads, but it's not going well.

I had a simple, speedy process in place. The stock arrived. I set everything in position only to realize that, due to the stupid left shoulder injury, I just cannot.

Had the MRI and met with the surgeon. A labrum tear and pieces of floating junk that have formed benign cysts big enough to interfere with movement and cause pain and weakness.

Before any surgery, there will be physical therapy. I will consult with that person to find a way to incorporate dirty thread production into the PT.

The trick? Teach Lefty to do Righty's thing. Lefty is a quick study while Righty is slow to pick it up. Who da thunk it?

finishing

Finishing.

This backing fabric has been waiting ten years or more for being called to active duty.

Once this part is done, I'll be faced with the struggle of orientation, although I may just leave that to the new owner when the time comes.

I'm so ready to start everything new. New cloth, new stories, new me.

Revisions

.

comic book production continued

I was informed that it's not a scrapbook because he's putting words in it too. And that the magazines we cannibalized the other day were pretty picked over. Did I have any others? 

A stack on a shelf in the studio closet waiting to shuffle their way off to the trash. SAQA journals, etc. 

I'm flipping through the pages looking for suitable pages to tear out - easier for new scissor users that way - and something looks familiar.