center panel progress and a second leopard + snakey-beast
In progress. Underway, going on, ongoing, happening, occurring, taking place, proceeding, continuing; unfinished, in the works.
Aide-mémoire: 2,400 tiny diagonal stitches per square inch of material.
main deck nearing first round of completion
The timbers and planks for the outdoor room are salvage from the Sea House Pleasure Pier when it closed in the early ‘60s, when that kind of pleasure was no longer popular nor profitable. They had been stored in a warehouse with other artifacts, apparently forgotten until they were rediscovered by two of the Sea House heirs and put up for auction in July, 2007.
the builder considers the view from the newly completed main deck, and contemplates landscaping, cheese, if time is more like a wave or a spiral, and the stories old wood can tell
The builder swears the wood smells like sea air and pink popcorn, and when cut, you can sometimes hear the sound of waves from under the pier.
as if I needed more opportunity
Tiny rug progress! I am still *loving* stitching this. It’s really cost-effective therapy: I have to concentrate so intently, few other thoughts slip in like, Really? We’re driving across North America with three cats and a giant dog in a 31-foot long so-called recreational vehicle? By choice?
I’d like to able to say my purity of focus prevents mis-stitchery mistakes, but that is profoundly not so. I’m rather amazed at all the many ways I make them. And although I’m learning as I proceed, inventing tricksy cross checks and multi-stranding, new mistakes creep in despite my diligence. Some are caught soon enough, and I can de-stitch the messups, but some are insidious and aren’t detected until far, far too late.
When that happens, I usually just go to bed.
And thus a whole realm of stitchery and pattern adjustments opens up, and I ponder and puzzle the most graceful way to move forward. With 2,401 tiny stitches per square inch of basis, one might think I have lot of options. But pattern and symmetry are both demanding taskmasters, and the challenge becomes how to fail slightly less obviously, and to not let the tiny errors compound.
I totally fail especially at symmetry; my brain fingers invent ways to diverge on not one but both sides of the pattern. And where motifs repeat, I must decide whether to intentionally try and recreate my, um, adjustments or go for the original pattern again. Thereby introducing further potential mistakes variations.
It’s humbling.
So this is about four of the 20 chart pages completed. Mostly. Impressive, ne?
pheasant chicken ? and rising sun lion tiger with sword?
The liger motif is what drew me most to the “Animals” rug pattern. I chose not to include the silly face on the sun, but everything else about the creature I love: the vaguely Egyptian mane, the jaunty red and yellow stripes, and the sword ? or staff ? held upright in its paw. I think of it as the cheerful beast who cuts through illusions, allows us to perceive reality, and makes our house sell for full asking price tomorrow. Actual width of the two-motif stitched area is 2.5 inches (6 cm) and represents about 1.5 chart pages of 20. Twenty. I’ve plenty of time and opportunity to perceive reality. Yay!
this threader saves minutes of aggravation
So, I’ve begun stitching what now seems like a gigantic rug. The stitches are even tinier than I imagined, nearly impossible. Six rows cover .125 inch (3mm). Mistakes have been made, and quite a few of them picked out and re-stitched, though not all. The difference between a correct diagonal stitch and an incorrect horizontal one are barely discernible. (Invoking two of the Four Ps: Perfectionism and Patience.) I have learned silk thread is far more forgiving than cotton. I have taught my non-dominant, under-hoop hand to stab the needle fairly accurately up through the mesh, which seems to speed up the rate of progress. I have stitched, and then removed, an entire corner motif outline because I counted incorrectly and was two rows off. Beginning to get the feel of needle placement in the mesh. Suspecting I may have, um, over-estimated my abilities with this as a first project. Doing it anyway.
large chart for a tiny rug
The “Animals” rug kit I got from Natalia Frank has been breached. It is intimidating. This is the chart, the map from which I will stitch. It is 20 pages. O_O The chart alone is a thing of beauty.
palette of silk and cotton thread, and silk gauze
The colors are gorgeous, subtle and rich. The silk gauze, sturdier than I expected, feels like it will hold up to the thousands of stitches it will eventually carry.
The first step (apparently) is to frame the edges of the gauze with a sturdier fabric, to both stabilize and extend its size to fit the 12-inch hoop I’ll be using (probably until the end of time).
Exquisite 1:12 miniature rug by Natalia Frank
I’ve ordered this needlework rug kit from Natalia Frank, a miniaturist and needlewoman of remarkable talent and skill. To try to get your mind around what she does — and what I want to do — know that the final piece measures 5.73 x 8.12 inches (14.5 x 20.6 centimeters). It is stitched on 49 count silk gauze, which translates to 49 x 49 tiny stitches per square inch of gossamer fabric (281 x 398 stitches do the math). With a single strand of DMC embroidery thread. (Regular embroidery floss is six strands twisted together.) I’m starting with the finger and eye exercises suggested on her blog.
I am excited about this project for so many reasons, like for instance you can only work on it for 20 or 30 minutes at a time or you’ll go blind, and that you don’t need a whole studio to do it in, and that Natalia has The Four Ps. That’s one more P than mine: Perfectionism, Procrastination, Paralysis. Hers are Practice, Persistence, Patience, Perfection. Her definition of Perfection is that no one is, which we all need to be reminded of from time to time. And she quotes Ovid, Gutta cavat lapidem (A drop hollows out the stone.) Thinking I like her Ps way more than mine. I’ll keep you apprised of my progress, and do check out her work.
The loft in Loft No. 1961, with a poster of my mother the archer. Happy Mother’s Day, Louise.
First light, bright blue sky, bare trees, crow
Trying so hard not to type “So much depends upon the blue watering can…”
Understandably, my little buddy looks a bit chilly.
the pond on the grounds of an old estate, now demolished, on the grounds of an even older farmstead, of which remains only the rock walls and cemetery, whose tombstones document the Ellis family who lived and died there in the 1800s
Sometimes, I don’t even know what I mean to say until I see the picture. The real world is hazy and bright, overexposed, but reflections in the water show what is. At that particular moment.
nancyland.com 