Art wilding

 

I freed another largeish quilt yesterday. Some ancient history, "Clubbin' 2007". Even though this piece has never spent any time exposed to the light, there has been significant fading.

Black has always been the most difficult color to brew with MX dyes. This is a picture when it was new.

Not much to look at anymore, but it will make a nice yoga mat, picnic blanket, or car seat cover. Function over everything else.  The hard part is waiting until there is no one around to say "Hey, you forgot something!". The note reads "finders keepers. a gift from the artist." Then I scuttled off back to my car. I really wanted to hang out to see if anyone picked it up, but no. There's the challenge. I removed the label and brought home. Record of release.
 

Waiting on the Sun

A surprise visitor in the studio this morning. Sweetie rarely ventures the stairs these days, but the temporary configuration of two refrigerators in the kitchen has been blocking her morning sunning.

Spring chill hangs on here, but my weatherbug son just told me Wednesday could bring 80 degrees. The first dyefest of the 2022 season looms. I know I won't get excited until I pull the dyes out of the cupboard and start mixing.

The week that's raced by since the last post? Writing in fits and starts, but mostly reading. 

           One of my crit partners and your ragmates, Dee Mallon, has written an astonishing novel. We have been trading pages and critiques for years and she's finally flung herself across the finish line. As the traditional publishing process goes, her story is a long way from getting into the reader's hands, but if there's any truth at all about the cream rising to the top, this book will be a bestseller. Congratulations, my friend!

 

giving grace all 'round

 

I had to look it up to be sure. People toss that expression around carelessly. Words matter. 

So I can say with confidence that I am allowing grace for this piece, my writing. and myself. Stop judging this piece which is so far from done.

It's for me to stop sulking because my work doesn't know where it's going or what it will be. Yet. Accepting that this is how I work and trying to change that now is a mistake. 

Drawings and plans for stitched pieces always die on the page. A few notebooks are full of the corpses of things that never inspired me enough to create them in cloth.

Outlining a book has proven to be a steel cage.  I sketched the first one: two parallel lines that crossed, curved back, crossed again, then fell into a spiraling widening helix. 

The next book isn't even ready for a sketch yet. The big picture, as yet unrevealed by the details that I have been accumulating. Notes, paragraphs, scenes - lots of them.  

                                                        Details like this. 

or,

"She hates himself," Bea told Tam.

"Sad. sad, but true. We all have little a both in us." She grinned into her hand and laughed. "One of Murph's buddies told him I was too mannish. Murph punched his lights out. Men who talk like that are 'fraid of women. What do you make of Teddy down at the flower shop?" 

 "He's got a lot of girl in him?" 

"So you understand. It's not easy being different like that." 

Annabea was learning hard lessons about being different every day in school."But Lady G is different. Like she's two people at once and boy is she hard on that other guy."

"Hush now and learn this. Ain't nothing more private than how people think about themselves." 

The details will gather. I will make order, sense, and purpose and the story will reveal itself.  I need to not be in such a damn hurry.

pro~visioning

 

..

THAT was fun. I've missed the hunt.

I went to my favorite thrift joint yesterday for the first time in two years. I did forget what the discount days were, but no matter.

100% silk anything was the quarry but not a whisper of silk anywhere, but I did score seven gorgeous pieces made of summer breezy cotton lawn- the kind of dresses and blouses that come with a second and third layer because, well, decency. 

This flouncy, three-tiered dress yielded an acre of some wonderful gauze or harem cloth. 

There were two tuxedo shirts from Saks 5th Ave that never went to a wedding. A super-fine, supple weave

that I've never seen in a dress shirt.  Everything scoured up nicely and I spent a pleasant evening deconstructing (more like dismembering) the booty. I can't wait to get this stuff into the dye pots. Still on the lookout for silks.

Studio visitors

 It's nice that visitors come by. Makes me wish I had a bar or at least a cooler up here. Some refreshments while we hang out, chat and chill. 

Charlie rousted Salem from her sunning spot to soak up a little Vitamin D. I thought he fell asleep, he was so quiet for so long. Simple pleasures.

Colin is at loose ends because his shift has changed. No more overnights, he's back to afternoon evenings and we get Brisco Field sunsets again!