Once upon a time I stitched up a bunch of abstract squares. They were covered in black nylon tulle, because that was a thing I did early on, and they were close enough in size to potholders to have an unshakeable resemblance to them. In other words, I soon hated them.
What does a quilter do? Cut them up, of course.
The row houses above came from one such “potholder.” A series is born, I thought.
Two problems. One, I can’t at the moment find the rest of the potholders. Two, the simple selection of ground, sky, and moon rather instantly became more complicated.
Because I let it, I know.
No worries! I’ve found other rectangles to cut up. Also, the way I allow various permutations to have a say is endlessly interesting to me.
The detours don’t help finishing a series (or to be honest, perhaps prevent even beginning one). But there you have it. This is who I am.
Any previously-worked square cut carefully enough ought to yield two rows of houses.