Player piano

 The players 

 I'm working on this long project (long story and long fabric).

I grew up in the 50s and 60s. I had a horrible childhood with

many things torturing all of my family members. I mean, it was almost comic.

I don't want to tell the story literally because who the heck wants

to hear. I survived and am here to tell the story. Lately I want to put

it all behind me and forgive. Sewing on this I'm feeling my heart open

and anger softening a little. They've all died now so I need to get this done.

The tentative title is Player Piano. Each week new notches were punched

in our lives. This turned into a ribbon of habit that played itself without me

doing a thing- just providing the forward motion.

At the end I'll see what's left. Maybe the grace of forgiving.

There's so much more to do on this. 

Disturbing news

I read this  

US attempts to halt Paris auction of sacred Native American artefacts | France | The Guardian

This morning right after reading this;

A Missouri Cave With Ancient Native American Drawings Has Been Sold : NPR

Have we lost our minds? 

Bettter. Maybe too light still. May dry darker. 

The question

 

This began with a lithograph of the Sphinx. Her gaze is so strong that it looked like the answer to something.I didn't know where it was going so began without any intention. She grew on me like a

Great Mother. Framing it was a hot job of ironing. I'd dropped that technique but used it again here.

This summer has been empty of making for me. My body and mind were tired from

everything so I walked and got stronger and cleaned and rearranged my making room

and tried to stay cool. I gave myself a break from expecting anything to get born.

I'm liking tis so much. It feels like I felt making it. I may paint a light wash over the white of 

the linen but that's all. Maybe sew a light frame around it. If I still have any readers here

What do you think about the light?

ing