Back in March, I auditioned pathways and trees, using sheer fabrics recently purchased at a Longmont Goodwill. There are chunks of a blue and white former skirt as well.
I thought I was settled on a bright green moon (silk from a former blouse) until I got some input. I decided to follow both Deb and Joann’s ideas: muted the green; added some bright blue. It’s better I think.
I also added a trunk to the tree on the right.
The strip of felt-backed huts is quite old. Because of bulging, it required lots of additional quilting and because of all the layers, I frequently used the machine.
To me, this is a desolate landscape from which there is no escape, no warm shelter. The hut in the front is possibly hospitable, but it is isolated, unconnected.
I call this one, “Land of the Dead.”
Both additions are exactly what was needed to give this piece a clean finished look. That it was with you during those awful dark days deserved a spectacular finish.
Love the light switch cover…..any notes on how to do it ???????
Joanne in Maine.
My friend Lisa (up in Maine!) made it. I think she took a workshop down here at Snow Farm.
Dee~ How this holds the energy of those days. The swirling of the sky, a jagged path and a leaning tree hugging the house…all while the earth holds a human head within its darken place – living with turmoil.
I do wonder what I may have seen without your title, but perhaps the same. And I wonder how it feels to express your grief time this way, if it helps?
Sending love
I don’t know if it helps. I notice that I could not go near the cloth until quite recently (we’re at 7 months and 2 days). So something has shifted but whether it’s because of writing, quilting, sleeping, celebrating him — I don’t know.
I have come back to look at this several times. There is something about it that I love. Maybe the rawness? Maybe because it gave you a place to put some of the awfulness? Maybe it’s my continued admiration and awe of how you are able to express and share all of this? And maybe it’s Pollyanna of me, but I feel love at the heart of it, glowing from the windows.
It is so helpful to get another perspective, in this case the idea that the windows offer up warmth. Cloth has been a remarkable carrier of emotion and I wonder why. Part of it must be the repetitive nature of sewing. It is something I know. And it has a certain logic to it, a path to follow.
Thanks, Hazel.