Christmas came early

OK, I knon that title's semi-blasphemous, but it's a cultural reference that captures the last few days fairly well. That sewing machine I was selling on sold for twice as much as I was hoping to get for it! If I can get a decent price for my embroidery machine it should just about cover the cost of my new Aurora 440. (Let's not talk about the embroidery module that I recently added to it, or for that matter, the software that I'm about to buy).

If that wasn't enough, I came home on Wednesday to find the front step covered in packages from Dick Blick and Pro Chem. I won't be so happy when the Visa bill comes, but for now it's fun. A lot of the purchases were for things that I tried and loved in Kerr's workshop, like the Caran d'Ache water-based crayons that you can use to hand color a screen and release with fabric paint medium (ProFab). Very cool.

I'm still contemplating the unfinished batik that I posted earlier this week. I agree with Rayna's comment that it's nice yardage, but not a finished composition unto itself. I also think that cutting it and starting to combine it with other cloth might be the next step. However, contemplating that next step has made me realize how much I hate cutting large pieces of hand dyed fabric. I have no problem slicing and dicing commercial fabric. The exception to that is of course really expensive or beautiful stuff that needs to be fondled, loved, and admired for a while before taking out the rotary cutter.

Last night I sat in the back yard with a Scotch staring at the cloth hanging on the clothes line trying to listen to what it's saying. I know just how "new age" that sounds, but I do think that if I can step back far enough from something I've made, I can see/hear something. Of course, what I hear might not be anything profound; it could be static, but even in that there's an element of revelation. So far this piece is saying something about circles, cycles, spirals, little cycles within larger ones, perhaps independent cycles that are isolated from each other (that's kind of sad). These circles/spheres/planets(?) need to be connected, unified, related to one another and to a larger cycle.

...Or I could just cut the whole thing up. I need to let this stew a little more.

As I reread what I just wrote I'm reminded just how much the language and practice of surface design overlap with spiritual direction, contemplative prayer, meditation, and psychotherapy. Isn't it great when things start to connect?