As I work on struggling to regain my creativity and meet deadlines, I envy those who are able to sit and hand sew.
Please, don't misunderstand this..I love my tiny machined adventures in textile art, each one a new beginning and and as exciting to me as the one before. You just never know where the line will take you. Where the colour will take you or where the texture will take you.
But I cast my mind back to earlier days. Days when I earned my crust by other means..and a much bigger crust it was, but left me hungry for creativity.
In those days if I had the time, I could sew just for pleasure.
I still used the machine but the fun was in the rhythm of the needle.
And the sound. That sound..even on a machine. That' in and out' of the needle and the thread is magical, entrancing and addictive.
But best of all by hand.
You have probably seen these before but they illustrate my point. Th ephotographs are old and not great but you can enlarge them by clicking on them.
Machine sewn felt, in much the same way as I do my current work, finished with gorgeous Stef Francis hand dyed threads handstitched.
I made 15 for this screen.
Heads from Ancient Greek 'Attic' Vases.
These led on to other Faces.
Apologies for repeating this.
A while later I was working to a group theme of 'Arabian Nights'.
This was my Scheherazade.
Good in parts (but I hated the hair)
I learned lessons from this piece. Tiny pieces of chiffon and velvet held down by running stitch.
I discovered a technique which I promised myself I would return to.
I was reminded of this when I caught up with Spirit Cloth today.
Jude is the Doyenne of the hand stitch. She needs no introduction and reigns supreme in the realm of 'Slow cloth'.
Other lessons were learned.
Stored up for future use.
You learn something with every piece you make.
