Flea Market Fabric

My summer collection of fabric from the flea market makes a nice stack. 









It took a good deal of time to get it washed, cut apart, then ironed and folded. I noticed that styles have changed since I last looked. Now blouses are fitted and with darts. Bothersome to cut around. This also tells you that I haven't paid much attention to styles for a long time.

I count 32 fabrics for about eight dollars--not a bad deal. Admittedly, a couple are uglies. I don't discriminate--one can never tell about usefulness. It's the color that counts.

Now I have to persuade all that fabric to squeeze into my stash...

The Reluctant Sketcher

My sketchbook came in handy last night. It's not that I don't like concerts; it's just that I'd rather be doing something, like stitching. My mother always had her knitting at concerts (and was known to chase run-away balls of yarn down the aisle). We went to the Roman amphitheater in Hammamet (Tunisia) to see a French singer, Gérard Lenorman. It was a trip down memory lane...

When one sketches in the dark, one cannot be too particular, however, this exercise kept me busy, forced me to pay attention to details, and anchored the experience in my memory. The amphitheater is small as amphitheaters go, holding only about 500 spectators. The intense humidity settled on everything and reminded me why I would not like to live in a beach town. Gérard slipped around on the damp stage and had to change his fancy street shoes for a pair of plastic beach sandals to keep from falling down. 

Yet, it was an excellent concert. At 68, this granddaddy was physically fit (he's gotta work out everyday) and could still belt out all his best hits with the energy of a 20-year-old. The accompanying musicians were young and talented (I'm thinking that they're probably cheaper to get as well). Gérard, a personable man, played well to an enthusiastic crowd.

Ah, Gérard, that's the way to grow old: stay focused on your art and reach out to people. Then you will be filled with energy and music.

Now Where Was I?

Oh, yes. I remember. Stitching the other side of roots.

This is easier than the Wing Cloth. Fewer strands, less entangling.

A note about the brown cloth that I machine appliquéd together: Because I didn't trim the back overlapping fabrics, it gives me two colors to work with. This allows me to sew the strands tighter together and do some overlapping. Totally serendipitous.

Beach Sketching

We went to the beach at Hammamet (Tunisia) for a couple of days. Nice break on a Mediterranean beach--doesn't that sound exotic? I managed to find some time to sketch early in the morning while everyone slept.

Have I mentioned that I dislike sketching about as much as I dislike the beach? At first it annoyed me silly to sit there and try to arrange the composition. And to work so small and on paper...really don't like it. I have so much stitching I want to be doing...


And yet, in the end I was glad I took the time. Sketching forces me to see structure, line, form, and color. After the marker, I added a bit of color with colored pencils.

And then I got an idea for my textile sketchbook, so the time wasn't wasted after all.

Back to Wings, 5

Inching along, only moving my fingers.

And I'm fairly certain that the rising temperature will guarantee that I can finish one wing by tomorrow.

Back to Wings, 4

As August approaches, temperatures soar above 100 F. 

About all I can do is move my fingers...

...while I sit glued to the AC

An Interlude, 5

The action's over at MulticoloredPieces today...

An Interlude, 4

To recapitulate: the owner of a 25-cent linen top from the flea market wanted a small appliqué flower to cover a spot. 




She chose a black fabric from an old outfit sitting in my stash.

I can't seem to do small appliqué flowers--just can't bend my mind to it.

It occurs to me that this type of interlude between huge projects is my way of playing. Since I do poorly with sketchbooks and journals, such pieces serve as studies in line, form, and materials, a place to explore.

The owner keeps wanting me to stop. Fortunately, she likes each addition, because I still have to go around the neck and over the shoulder. And yesterday she handed me a pair of pants with a spot and begged me for another small appliqué flower...

Linked to Nina Marie's "Off the Wall Friday."

An Interlude, 3

The owner of the 25-cent linen top saw it by chance and instantly said she liked the design.

Then she asked if I could stop there. Where's the fun in that?

An Interlude, 2

The 25 cent linen top from the flea market provides a good base to sew upon.

The slightly loose weave allows the needle to fly (relatively).

It occurs to me that the owner might not like this design, in which case I'll pay her 25 cents, 

cut it up, and make it into something else since it's too small for me. 

An Interlude, 1

A family member came home with a flea market linen top for 25 cents. "It's not pretty, it's only white. You should decorate it," said the little person beside me. 

OK, it had one tiny spot so the little person was right. White is unforgiving.

         25 cent linen top                                                 interesting fabric from an old outfit                                  

         

The owner suggested a small flower appliqué to cover the spot. 

Hmmmff. Where's the fun in that?

Back to Wings, 3

Inching along in the wee hours.