Planning

Never my forte. I write notes, make lists, and loose them. I think in piles.  Lyn\n Krawczyk's recent Messy Studio Blogroll gave me a lift.

Yesterday I dug out my studio. The problem is all those ideas. Purses, scarves, installations; class prep,  products, art. Too many. I have a poem posted in my studio, Marge Piercy's The Sabbath of Mutual Respect.  "Every row dug in spring means weeks/ of labor." Art, like abundance, is "the spirit of labor and choice."

So, up this morning at 5AM, to go through calendars, proposals, plans. May the morning's clarity pierce through the mists of the day.

Stitching this now

Grey day. Soup on the stove. Gospel music on the radio.

 Almost finished with the stitching.

The piece has no right-side up. 

Troubling or intriguing?

Or is this really two pieces conjoined?

Still pondering that question.

Stitching this now

I have rediscovered hand-stitching: therapeutic, productive, portable.

This is the second piece of three.

After the it was stitched, I went back in with paint, to bring out patterns, relationships. I'll take pictures of it tomorrow. This is the pre-painted look: interesting up close, but doesn't "read" across a room.

The image of the hand is a thermfax print, made from a drawing I made over 15 years ago, in art school. The assignment was "draw 5 feet and 5 hands." Funny how clearly I remember that. It felt huge. The evening was hot. A friend had us over for dinner. I drew hands and feet as we talked into the night.