space out of time

taking some time this evening to bring the dirty threads to some unfinished work.

.

writing about it

"All the colors of the waking world were sucked into the tiny campfire and thrown up to the stars in a gush."

excerpt from "The Monkeytown Murders"

Dirty Threads ready to rock

..the Cassinis
and Those Who Stand and Wait
are up and ready to go here

Cost me a pint of blood to the friggin' mosquitos!!




And this happened today.

Basis

The groundcloth for the Cassini threads. Project potential limitless.

do-overs

Now, this is what I had in mind!

It took two passes, but it was worth the trouble. This is the Cassini group.

I'll label and post them tomorrow in the store.

Sunday doings

There was a late-night chemical miscalculation and the hair went from Brass Monkey Blond to Mouse's Ass Brown. I worked until after midnight but was awakened before daybreak by drunken Mariachi Karaoke from the crack farm one block over.

Still in mourning for Cassini, I decided honest work would be good, so I went back into Revision Hell with the current WIP. After a couple of aimless hours, I've concluded that it is a steaming pile of shit! Many tasty little turds, nonetheless, shit.

Since I have to be back on the day-job clock at four, combinations of excess alcohol, illegal drugs, or reckless sex with trolls are off the self-pity menu. The solution? Jumped in the Flash and motored to Publix for Red Velvet Cake and Coffee ice cream. I'll drape the mirrors in black, take a nap, and start fresh tomorrow.

Around all that mess, these:

Wearable..

                  Only time will tell. A couple hours, give or take. (JS. That's you on the right)

We'll take another look tomorrow when they are dry. The one on the left, mine, is a lot greener than I like, but a yellow base what else could I expect. I have a remedy in mind. The other is just Carnival Time!

tooling up for color

Look at these huge crystals! Rock salt for ice cream with facets like big, smiling faces just waiting to get to work with the dyes. No more of that spendy pink Himalayan salad stuff. Used it all.

Packages and letters are away! Mollymook, Camperdown and Polvadera, heads up! A week to ten days, give or take.

My friends live in places with names as interesting as the new colors who arrived yesterday: Raven, Robins Egg, Avocado, BlueViolet, Daffodil and Golden Brown.

I have to figure out a whole new way to dye indoors. There will be a technicolor bathtub and sink. For fun, I'm going to make a smock, a large rug and a set of towels, all cotton, only for dye fests.

the fire this time

I was rummaging through the closet for something fall-ish to wear rather than kick the furnace up a notch or two. My go-to yoga pants from last year were crumpled in a corner, dusty but clean enough.

In one of the pockets, this scrap of a damask napkin dipped in fire. I took a dozen pictures of this scrap and got a dozen variations of red. This one comes closest, but it's still off. It's as if my eyes can look, but they can't really see.

Sometimes, all it takes is a scrap - this is hand size. Irregular.- to get a fire going.

I've had too many brands in the fire lately and it was easy to let a little brush with a hurricane dampen all of them. Time to get back to work.


If you've ordered something from me in the past few days, thanks for your patience. Although we suffered little real damage, we are still putting life back on track.

post storm

We are wet and bedraggled. Nothing blew away or fell down. So far. But we have power (now) heat and a roof over our heads that is in one piece, so no complaints.


I did get to spend half a day with Charlie before his folks got home early ahead of the worst of it.




No Publix, no park but a bunch of fun.

pre-storm still

It's too early in the day for selfies, but it's so beautiful outside. Chilly enough for the Magic Invisibility cloak. It is heavy with layering so I save it for sweater weather. It needs some work.

Yesterday, nature was holding her breath. Today the pulse has quickened. My wind chimes are tuning up.

The sky is clear, but the trees are anxious. Milling around gently now, opening their arms and faces to the warmth of the sun like they know they aren't going to see it for a while. For some of them, maybe never again. I wonder how much they know.

At some point in the day, I have to clear off the dye deck. stow stuff, invert small containers.
I also want to get some pieces out with dye so they can be rinsed by whatever remnant of the hurricane makes it way here.