Tuesday, March 05, 2024

Signs (updated)

      🐲 Yes, the Dirty Threads & Hot Scraps Page is missing~

                                                        ~Will be until Summer checks in. 🐲



 Crazy, but true. I'm putting this and all stitching projects on hold until I can make more threads. I realized this morning that a big part of the slowdown is me staring at what's left of the stash and not finding what the piece needs at any given moment. I don't want to settle, so, a pause. 

Something I've noticed. I need a wider range of VALUES no matter what the hue. 

Does anybody have any strange questions regarding my process? I'm starting to put together a tutorial. 

Do I really have to do a history?       (Why not, lazy bitch. Maybe you won't forget something important.)


Right here I have to remember that Less is Often More.


                                    According to the editing team, I have a lot of other things to do.



Monday, March 04, 2024

Organically slow


 Why is it that the smallest hurts take longer to heal as we age? 

I did some lefting for a few hours here and there. My thumb is better. But placing and drawing needle and thread with your non-dominant hand does things to the brain. Found myself on some unexpected and revelatory thought trains. A mini acid trip. Spring (mental) cleaning. 

I remain a NYer at heart not trusting March for much. Here, I may still have a jump on some gardening. I have weeds and seeds and hope. 

(I forgot about the music. That's some sexy shit, eh?   "Night Lights" by Gerry Mulligan, 1961)

Friday, March 01, 2024

~caesura~



 

 
Just when I'm finding a rhythm outside the heaat space/shape, I tore my right thumbnail to the quick and cannot hold a needle. Typing reverts to hunt and peck.


So, a few days away. There are many other things. 

I found the perfect ampersand and the title of my next book. 
Maybe it will be stitched.


Note the changes in the pages bar. Scraps and threads are sold out for now. 

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Bridge

 






Apologies up front to songwriter Amanda Mcbroom and Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp.

I don't know if stitching words on a pillow that will never leave your home means you owe someone something. 

How close is it to singing in the shower?

So here, as visual, only fractions of the whole. It's my font and stitch that I'm keeping my fingers on. Remembering to loosen up a bit. 
On cloth and on paper.









This project is taking on a life of its own.

Monday, February 26, 2024

New and Old


We scoured the yard for windfall sticks until I ran out of gas (pretty quickly). The wind was kicking up and I mentioned that it was good kite-flying weather. Charlie quickly produced a kite that had to be hatched out of its packaging and assembled. It flew! We got about fifteen minutes of launching and flying before the wind decided enough was enough. 

I wanted to stay outside and absorb a little more vitamin D so Charlie went inside for tools and quickly taught me how to lose at tic tac toe. Who knew the Corner Strategy?

I responded with my favorite, trapped at a desk time waster, the Knight's Move number maze. I drew him a ten by ten grid, explained the rules,  and he was off to the races with a vengeance! I can't remember seeing him so focused. 

Later the same day, he broke out his tablet and headphones and dove into his first audiobook. He was trying to work the puzzle at the same time as he was listening to Diary of a Wimpy Kid. It was a toss up, but you could have set his hair on fire and he might not have noticed. It was wonderful to behold so much focus on something that was not hand-held and full of batteries.


 An old friend reached out and we spent our quarterly hour and change on the phone catching up. She reminded me about a piece that she once admired. I knew exactly where to put my hands on it for a change. Dug it out of a pile of mostly finished what-nots and made sure it was worthy and ready. It is.

Also yesterday, the family in NY gathered to celebrate our Dad's birthday. Pop worked and drank at the Blazer Pub where he is still fondly remembered. I wish I could have been there.  

Again yesterday, an old friend let it be known that her husband had passed away. We had lost touch over the years. Just a click away, yet....

Connections. I think the ease of digital communication is overated. Too tenuous.