I had been thinking about this for a while--another in this scrunched series to see how a different pattern will react as it begins to curve across the background. So it was time to start pulling out fabrics. It didn't take long to find a backing piece, a looser weave than my hand-dyes and batiks so that the needle will at least slip easily through one layer. My vision for this piece began with varying shades of brown and I ran smack into a problem--the first time I have gotten really frustrated by this living(and thus working)-in-two-places lifestyle. For some reason, I had neglected to leave any browns in the PA studio. Well, there was one beautiful brown piece that measured about 5 inches on each side. Here I was--finally with enough time to work but nothing to work with.
After a cup of tea and trip outside to rake up chestnuts (guess I did have to do something around the house), I was ready to try again. After all, poets who work within the restrictions of a sonnet can produce memorable poems, so I should rise to the challenge of working with a restricted palette.
Try as I might, I could not switch the colors of that next piece--which did teach me something more about this series: Color is particularly integral to the design. So I took another deep breath and remembered an interesting piece of fabric I had come across in my desperate search for brown. I put it up on the design wall and soon began to see possibilities for another in my raw-edged applique series and I was well on my way to turning a disaster of a day into something quite satisfying. Can you hear the music swelling as the day closes on a happy ending?
And if you managed to keep reading to the end, thanks for the company!
